


Blood, Muscle, Skin, & Bone

by StardewTales



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Fluff, Friendship / Flirting / Thinking of You Fest, Love at First Sight, Medical Care, POV Multiple, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, except they're clueless, listen to brandi carlile while reading you're welcome, lmao my fingers slipped there's a smidge of angst on the way now, smut will happen when we get there, this is fully self-indulgent sorry, yeehaw baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2019-10-16 11:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17548463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StardewTales/pseuds/StardewTales
Summary: Celia hasn't stepped foot in the Valley for ten years when she comes back to take over her grandfather's farm. Pelican town awaits, full of faces familiar and unknown. And yet, the town's doctor's is the one she can't shake off her mind.Harvey doesn't realize he's stuck in a rut. That is, until she starts disturbing it.  She's everything he's been waiting for, but she's so young and has more than one bachelor interested around town.As the seasons change, can they accept that no matter how hard you try, you don't get to change your heart's mind, and that finding the love of your life doesn't always mean you get to be with them?





	1. Hard Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> title of the story and chapter titles are all song titles because i am what? that bitch. if y'all ever want the playlist for some reason just shoot a comment on any chapter and I'll work something out.

The first morning her alarm rang through the tiny cabin, Celia barely remembered where she was. It was the scent that situated her. It was faint, but the familiar smell of her grandfather’s home still lingered in the air, almost as an afterthought.

Sitting up in the bed, the faint light of dawn filtered through the single window, allowing her to survey her modest surroundings. A fireplace, a TV, a table and a bed weren’t much to live off of. She let a sigh escape her as she remembered what the farmhouse used to look like. Time had eaten away at the place, a fallen tree taking down the master bedroom after her grandfather’s passing and a leak in the roof ruining the kitchen that one time her grandfather had taken the week off to visit her and her dad in Zuzu City.

It pained her to imagine him, living all alone on all that farmland during these last few years. She wished she’d visited more often. That she’d written to him more. That she’d taken him up on his invitation to come down for the Night Market last winter, because he remembered how much it fascinated her as a child. Feeling an onset of tears prickle her eyes, she got out of bed and busied herself before she fell into yet another spiral of guilt and regret.

She’d brought very little along with her, having widely miscalculated all that she would need. Reaching into her bag that she’d tossed at the end of her bed, she pulled out one of three pairs of denim overalls she’d bought for her new life. Now that she was here, they felt too obvious. Painfully aware she’d gotten them to compensate for her lack of farming expertise, hoping to at least look the part, she slid them on over a long-sleeved white henley. Was tying only one strap too much, or did it make her look more laid-back? Praying for the latter, she shifted her attention to braiding her hair into pigtails.

Not owning a full-sized mirror yet, she hoped she looked nice enough to make a good first impression on the townsfolk. She’d stayed on the farm after arriving the day before, making a go at trying to clear out a patch of dirt to plant seeds in and cutting a few trees to have some wood to work with. She was already sore from the little work she’d gotten done, and had managed to earn herself huge blisters on the palms of her hands.

She planned on heading into town early to score a few supplies at the general store. Gloves would have to be added to the list, it seemed. At the thought of the store, her stomach grumbled, becoming aware that her dinner the previous evening had consisted of unseasoned leek and mushroom cooked up on the portable grill she’d had the clarity to bring.

Looking at the time on her alarm clock, she saw it was way too early still to be headed into town; everything would be closed. Turning the TV on, she let herself get engrossed into the current episode of Livin’ off the Land, which was showing how to hoe dirt, fertilize it and plant seeds in it the most effective way. She listened _very_ intently.

A half hour later, she decided it was high time she stepped outside. She figured if she went to town through the forest, she’d get to the store right after it had opened. As she opened her door, she couldn’t help but smile as the crisp morning air made her cheeks flush. She could smell the pine trees and the dewy grass on the wind. _This is why I’m here_ , she thought.

Invigorated, she headed south, assessing how much clearing up was still to be done. It was a lot, enough to deflate her optimism a bit. Trying to shake the dread away, she stepped off of her new land and into the forest.

She heard a door slam shut ahead. She wasn’t the only early bird in the Valley, it seemed. Curiosity getting the better of her, she quickened her pace until Marnie’s Ranch came into full view. A silhouette, a man by all means of observation, was heading for the town when the door of the Ranch opened .

“Uncle Shane, you forgot your wallet!” a tiny girl shouted, waving said wallet around above her head as she ran towards him. 

The man stopped in his tracks and turned around to meet her halfway. Celia couldn’t hear what he told her, but did see him ruffle her hair before heading back for the town hurriedly. She had made it to the front of the ranch when she came to stand ahead of the little girl who was skipping back home. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed her, her whole demeanor changing.

“Hi there,” Celia tried with a smile. “What’s your name, sweet pea?”

The little girl stayed muted, looking at her apprehensively. Celia tried not to fret it.

“I’m Celia,” she introduced herself instead, holding out her hand. “I just moved here.”

She stared at her a few seconds more.

“I really like the bow in your hair,” she kept on trying, unsure why she wasn’t just leaving the child alone.

“Aunt Marnie says I shouldn’t talk to strangers,” she finally said.

As if on cue, the door of the ranch opened, Marnie stepping out. 

“Jas, come finish your breakfast now!” she called out before spotting them by the cattle fence.

Jas, not needing to be told twice, sprinted for the door, leaving Celia out to dry. Served her right, trying to introduce herself to a child first out of anyone in town.

“Heya there, don’t believe we’ve met,” Marnie called, walking towards her now. “Lewis, erm, I mean the Mayor told me someone new was moving into town, any chance that might be you?”

“Hi,” Celia smiled, relieved to finally see a familiar face. “We’ve actually met before, not sure if you’d remember me? I’m Celia Faulkner, Harold Faulkner’s granddaughter.”

A look of recognition dawned on Marnie’s face.

“Oh but of course! How did I not see it?” Marnie exclaimed, a wide grin spreading from cheek to cheek. “Oh let me look at you, how you’ve grown! What a gorgeous young woman you are now,” she said appreciatively, instinctively cupping Celia’s face with her hands before letting go. “How long has it been since you’ve been here last?" 

“I believe I was thirteen last time you saw me,” Celia laughed, leaning on the fence. “It’s great seeing you again after so long.” 

“Goodness, 10 years,” Marnie whispered. “Hold on, are you here to take the reins of Thornwood?”

Celia nodded. “My grandpa left it to me after passing,” she explained quietly. “Not sure if I’ll be any good at it, but I figured I owed it to him and to myself to at least try.”

“I really hope it all works out for you then,” Marnie smiled warmly. “If you ever want to take up raising animals, you just let me know. Chickens aren’t much trouble at all.”

“Well, I’ll start by planting some seeds and see how it goes,” Celia chuckled. “But I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.” 

Marnie smiled as she kept examining her, and Celia could detect a hint of worry in her eyes. 

“Listen, I gotta go back to Jas in there,” she gestured to her home, “But I want you to know if you ever get lonely up there all by yourself, you’re welcome here anytime, okay?”

“Thanks Marnie,” Celia replied feeling herself get a bit emotional. “It means a lot.”

“Alright then, enjoy your day and best of luck with the farm,” Marnie said as she gave her a quick hug. 

Celia waved her goodbye and resumed her walk into town, smiling to herself. It felt incredibly good to know at least one person in town seemed to genuinely care for her well-being. She hadn’t fully appreciated how isolating moving here on her own would be, and in that moment she was ever grateful for Marnie’s warm disposition.

Walking into town, Celia saw from the names on the mailboxes that there were some new people in town since she’d last came. There might be more people to meet for the first time than she’d expected. 

Breathing in and out deeply to shed the creeping anxiety, she walked on the the town square. Like a woman on a mission, she headed straight for Pierre’s only to find the door would not open when she grabbed its handle. Confused, she checked out the opening hours inscribed on a plaque by the door and cursed under her breath. She could’ve sworn Lewis had told her the shops opened at 8, not 9. Glancing at her watch, she saw that she had twenty minutes to spare. 

“Great,” she muttered under her breath. 

Hoping to keep herself distracted, she started examining the help wanted board. Apparently some woman named Jodi needed a fish she wouldn’t even know where to begin looking for. She wondered if Willy was still around. He could probably help her get her footing where it came to the local fish.

Her attention then shifted to the calendar. She was surprised to see birthdays were marked there for all to see. She wondered if she should scribble in her own, and frowned when she saw something was already written on that day. Realization dawned on her; she’d forgotten the Flower Dance was a thing, and more importantly that it fell on her birthday. Younger, she mostly visited her grandfather during the summer and the winter, but he’d invited her for her eleventh birthday to come down and celebrate it at the Flower Dance.

She smiled at the memory. In hindsight, she was aware she was just entering an awkward phase at that age, braces and unruly hair to top it off, but she remembered how pretty she’d felt in her sundress and how she’d blushed with delight when the boy who lived with his grandparents whose name escaped her, a year or two older than her, had danced with her for a song. Even back then, she’d had the nagging feeling he’d been prompted by his grandma, but she’d chosen to willfully ignore it. 

After having read everything, she glanced back at her watch and sighed. Less than five minutes had passed. Not knowing what else to do, she crouched to sit down, back against the shop. Confident no one was around to hear her, she hummed quietly along with a song she couldn’t remember that played in the back of her mind.

Walking through the forest she’d glaned a handful of daffodils and had put them in the pockets of her overalls. Perhaps they’d brighten up the cabin. She plucked one from her pocket and toyed with its stem, twirling it between her fingers to create a draft of its delicate smell.

Startling her into a gasp, the door to the clinic next door opened, the chime of a bell accompanying it. Out came a man, older than her and sporting a coat the same hue as the stem of the daffodil she was holding. Seeing her sat there startled him as well, spilling some of his coffee onto the ground as his other hand reflexively reached towards his chest.

  
_Off to a great start_ , she internally assessed.


	2. The Stranger At My Door

“Yoba, you scared me,” he said to her as he inspected his pants and shoes to make sure they were spared by the spill. “What are you doing, sitting down there?” he asked, before turning his gaze to her. The sight of her seemed to unsettle him. “Oh, my apologies,” he recovered. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he added, obviously trying not to stare.

Celia started to get up, flushed with embarrassment. She couldn’t imagine how out of place she looked in the moment.

“Oh, allow me,” he said, putting away his mug on the windowsill of the clinic and extending a hand for her to grab.

Grateful, she looked up at him and took it. A jolt ran through her as she did, and she suddenly became unable to take her eyes off him. The sun gently shone unto his chestnut curls, revealing subtle golden highlights in the natural color. Impeccably clean glasses covered his eyes, hazel with specks of green. He was taller than her, tall enough for her to have to crane her neck slightly to level her gaze with his. His hand was broad around hers, held it in a way that didn’t make her blisters ache.

Snapping back to reality, she realized there was no reason to still be holding his hand now that she was standing back up. With an embarrassed chuckle, she introduced herself.

“Thanks,” she gave him a shy smile. “I’m Celia, I moved into the farm west of town yesterday.”

“Nice to meet you, Celia,” he replied, looking like he’d just put some puzzle pieces together. “Glad to hear Thornwood found a new owner, Mr. Faulkner would be so happy to know it’s being taken care of,” he said. “Oh, Mr. Faulkner was your farm’s previous owner,” he added hastily.

“I know,” she smiled amusedly. She noticed he had yet to introduce himself. “He was my grandfather,” she explained, “but I have to say, I’m not sure I inherited his talents for farming,” she said, staring down at her blistered hands.

A look of concern painting over his face, he went to reach for one, before stopping himself.

“May I?” he asked, waiting for her reply.

She nodded, perhaps too eagerly, at the prospect of placing her hand in his again. Not noticing the blush creeping on her cheeks, he cradle her left hand in his as he ran his fingers gently over her palm. His touch sent shivers down her spine.

Noticing, he looked up.

“My, you’re shivering,” he said, noticing she wasn’t wearing a jacket of any sort despite the morning chill. “Please, let’s continue this inside, it’s warmer there,” he said, pointing to the door of the clinic. “Doctor’s orders,” he joked.

_ Ah, so he’s a doctor, _ she thought to herself.

“Did you join Dr. Garnett’s practice?” she asked as she stepped in, him holding the door for her. She remembered the old doctor patching up her skinned knees once or twice after she’d tripped on the cobblestones in town as a child.

“I’m afraid Dr. Garnett hasn’t been in town for some years now,” he answered, shutting the door. “I took over the clinic when he retired. He lives in the desert now, I heard.”

“Oh, I see,” Celia replied, a twinge of disappointment discernible. That meant there was one less familiar face in town for her to feel comfortable around.

“If you’ll follow me,” he said, face suddenly unreadable, as he headed to the back of the clinic.

Celia looked around as she followed in his footsteps. The waiting room had different wallpaper than the one she remembered. In the back, however, remained the same sterile white.

He led her to the examination room and gestured to the cushioned table, covered with a paper sheet.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, and headed for the small sink to wash his hands.

Celia felt awkward climbing onto the table, hearing the paper crackle under her as she sat down on it, letting her shins dangle off the edge. Not even 24 hours on the farm and she was already fit for a doctor’s visit.  _ Record-breaking _ , she thought.

“Alright, let’s see those hands,” he said, coming back to her.

She held them out, partially holding her breath. As he examined her palms and brushed his thumbs over her blisters, she couldn’t hold back a wince.

Noticing her pain, his face softened.

“I’d advise letting it heal itself,” he started, “but I get the feeling you’ll be doing a lot of manual labour in the coming days.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “I have my work cut out for me.”

“Here’s another option, then: I can puncture them for you to speed up the process,” he offered. “On the condition you promise to keep them clean. Last thing you want with these is an infection,” he shook his head.

_ Gross _ . “Sounds like a plan,” she forced a smile. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job,” he smiled back. “Before we get started, I need to know, are you afraid of needles?”

She shook her head no, and he nodded. He rummaged through some supplies and pulled out a tiny paper packet with a sterile needle inside. After taking out some bottles, cotton balls and bandages, he put on some gloves and turned back to her as he broke the needle out of its package.

“Hold steady, but don’t hold your breath,” he told her after pulling a high chair by the table so he could sit on it. Pressing on the side of the examination table, he popped out a tiny platform of which he adjusted the height so she could rest her hands on it. “Ready when you are,” he told her. She couldn’t help but notice how he had spectacularly kind eyes.

Celia nodded, and he got to work. It barely hurt, he really was just making a small puncture so the fluid could drain out. After the first one, however, she decided she’d rather look away. There were five in total, and he was done in just over a minute.

“There you go, the worst is over now,” he smiled at her. He really was good at maintaining a reassuring presence.

Tossing the needle, he brought two brown bottles on the platform where her hands still were.

“First one to clean it up, second to disinfect,” he explained.

As he was up to disinfecting her right hand, the clinic’s doorbell chimed.

“Dr. Harvey?” a feminine voice called out.

“In the back, Maru!” he called back, not taking his attention off from her hands.

Celia heard some shuffling, and soon enough a young woman in a white blouse came into the examination room. Her skin a rich dark tone and her hair was dyed at the intersection of red and pink, with a hint of purple. Had the doctor not spoken her name, she might not have recognized her.

“I found this outsi-” she started, waving a mug, before noticing Celia. “Oh, did we open early today?” she asked him.

“No, uhm,” he stuttered, caught short, “I just, uh, made an exception. Maru, have you met Celia yet? She just moved into Thornwood,” he diverted.

Celia couldn’t help but glance at him, unsure why he’d grown all stuttery. Could it be that Maru made him flustered? A twang of disappointment panged her stomach, which she refused to acknowledge.

“Wait a second, I know you!” Maru exclaimed. “You’re Harry Faulkner’s granddaughter right? Didn’t we play together as kids?”

“I think there wasn’t a book in that library we didn’t pull from the shelf that one summer,” Celia chuckled, relieved someone else remembered her. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” Maru smiled, but there was something tense in it as she surveyed the room. “Do you want another coffee to replace this one, Dr. Harvey?” she shifted her focus.

“Ah, yes, please,” he replied, visibly pleased. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime,” she smiled, before going back to Celia. “I’ll see you around, I guess!”

With that, she waved her goodbye and left the room.

“Alright, where were we?” the doctor asked himself out loud, and finished disinfecting her hands.

As he got up, Celia wanted to disturb the silence that had settled after Maru.

“So, is Harvey a last name?” she asked him.

He turned around, puzzled, before it clicked. “Did I not introduce myself to you?”

“I’m afraid not,” she grinned, amused.

She thought she saw his cheeks flush before he turned around to cut a length of bandage fabric.  _ Stop imagining these things _ , she chastised herself.

“Unlike Dr. Garnett before me, I prefer to go by my first name,” he explained. “So no, not a last name to answer your question. Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier, I tend to forget myself,” he apologised.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she responded hastily, “Dr. Harvey,” she added, a sudden urge to see how saying his name felt pushing her to it.

He let out a dry chuckle as he came back to sit by her side.

“Alright, now pay attention,” he started, “you’ll have to put them on every morning for three days, and take them off at night so the wounds can breathe.”

Nodding, Celia paid attention to how he expertly wrapped the bandage across her palm and around her thumb on each hand. 

“Got it?” he asked, looking up at her. There was a softness to his gaze she couldn’t get over.

“I think so,” she answered, not 100% confident. 

“If there’s ever a problem, you know where to find me,” he said, and as he did the front door chimed once more. “Oh, that must be Evelyn here for her physical,” he commented. “I think you’re all set now, just don’t forget to stop by the counter so Maru can give you the extra bandages you’ll need.”

“I will,” she nodded, hopping off the examining table. “Thank you so much for all this, you really didn’t need to open the clinic early for me,” she thanked him.

“Don’t mention it,” he brushed it off with a wave of the hand. “Just promise you’ll buy yourself some gloves next doors as soon as you step out,” he laughed.

“Will do,” she chuckled back. “One last thing before I leave, if you don’t mind,” she added, “Is there a bathroom I could use?”

“Absolutely, just turn left down the hall,” he answered, starting to put away the supplies he’d used on her.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll see you around, Dr. Harvey,” she smiled.


	3. Rolling Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just spent over an hour crafting a playlist for this story... gotta love storyboarding with songs amirite ladies?? also, sorry I haven't updated in a few days but I wanted to put out this one and the next together since this one is more about building up the story, you'll see what I mean when you compare with the next chapter. enjoy!

Relieved to finally have been able to get to a bathroom, Celia studied herself in the tiny mirror of the clinic’s bathroom as she washed her hands. The neon light above her wasn’t doing her pale complexion any favours, highlighting the darkness under her eyes and the fading marks of pimples past. 

However, she felt this neon-lit version of herself was different from the one in the Joja Corp. bathrooms. She couldn’t put her finger on quite what had changed in so little time already, but she was certain something had. For one, she liked how the daffodil buds looked busting out of her overall pockets, although already starting to droop, and how its denim brought out the icy blue in the grey of her eyes.

Invigorated at the prospect of the new person she had the freedom to become now, Celia had a slight bounce in her step as she walked back to the front counter of the clinic. Maru was the only one in the room, busying herself with some filing. She didn’t raise her head to look at Celia until she’d made her way to the counter, but smiled at her when she did.

“Alright, let’s see what we have here,” she said, sitting down on a desk chair. “First of all, you don’t have to, but if you plan on using the clinic again at any point, it would be a good idea to get the paperwork out of the way while you’re already here,” she explained, holding out a clipping board with a form for her.

“Sure, makes sense,” Celia replied, looking at the information she’d have to provide.

“It’s only standard stuff,” Maru added, “like any allergies you might have or medication you take so we know what to avoid should you find your way here by emergency. You can take a seat as you fill it, if you’d prefer,” she motioned towards the sitting area.

Celia nodded, repressing a shudder at the thought.  _ Hopefully no emergencies on the horizon _ . As she was about to sit down, an empty vase on the counter caught her eye.

“Hey, I grabbed these in the forest on my way to town,” she started, starting to empty her pockets of the yellow flowers, “but I don’t think they’ll be as beautiful still by the time I’m done with my errands. Why don’t you take them?” she asked, eyes drifting to the vase.

Maru smiled back at her, but there was something distinctly annoyed in the way her lips were pressed. “Oh, well, if you insist,” she replied, “I imagine it would be a waste not to.”

She grabbed the small makeshift bouquet Celia handed her with one hand and the vase with the other, before heading for the back of the clinic to fill it up with water.

Brushing away the awkwardness of the exchange, she sat down and started filling her personal information. Her medical chart was remarkably plain, one small exception aside: a mild coconut allergy.

When Maru came back with the flower-filled vase, Celia was almost done writing down that the only medication she took was birth control. Reviewing her chart one last time, she nodded before heading back to the counter.

“Here you go,” she offered it back.

“Great,” Maru took it and put it away. “And these,” she said, sliding a brown paper bag filled with bandage cloth and rubbing alcohol, “are for you. I’m sure Dr. Harvey told you how to use this?”

“He did,” Celia smiled, briefly reminded of how kind he’d been to take care of her hands before he opened the clinic. “So what do I owe you for all this?” she asked, reaching for her wallet in her pocket.

“Nothing, you’re free to go,” Maru answered, but did not look pleased at the answer she’d given.

Celia frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Dr. Harvey said something about a welcome package and ensuring customer loyalty,” Maru sighed, rolling her eyes slightly. “To be honest, I don’t really get how this makes sense to him either, but if I were you I’d roll with it. He specifically instructed me to insist, so you’d spare us both the time,” she explained, before pausing. “You must’ve made quite an impression on him,” she added, slightly bitter but not unkind.

Celia felt herself blush at her last words.  _ It’s just a good impression, nothing to write home about _ , she had to tell herself.

“Oh,” was all she could reply, grabbing the brown paper bag. “Well then, thanks for everything,” she offered a shy smile.

Maru’s face softened. “See you around, Celia. Good luck with that farm of yours, you’ll need it.”

“Thanks,” she replied. “Glad to have seen you again,” she waved and exited the clinic.

_ Alright, what now? _

Looking around, she remembered: the general store, of course. Clutching her paper bag tightly, she pushed the glass door inwards. A chime announced her presence. Just like the last time she’d been in there, only several years older, Pierre stood behind the cash register and smiled at her.

“Well, look who’s back after all this time,” he greeted her with a friendly wink. “It’s good to have you back in town, Celia,” he added, walking from behind his counter to shake her hand warmly.

“It’s good to be back, Pierre,” she grinned. “How’d you know I was back, though?”

“I’m afraid Robin stole your thunder.” he laughed. “She didn’t mean to, she just asked if you’d swung by here yet. She was surprised you hadn’t. You just missed her, she left barely five minutes ago.”

“Yeah, I had my hands full with the farm yesterday,” Celia sighed. “But I’m here now! I was told you might have some seeds I could purchase?”

“You heard right,” he confirmed, and motioned to a swivelling tower display filled with seed packets. “They’re ordered by season, make sure you get ones that’ll grow right away,” he advised. “And there’s some fertilizer right over there,” he pointed to a shelf a little ways down.

“Thanks, shouldn’t take me too long to decide,” she answered with a grateful smile.

“Take your time,” he said. “Just put everything you want on the counter there and let me know when you’re ready.”

She made her way to the seed display first. She settled on a few packets of parsnip seeds, and a few of green beans as well, seduced by the promise of the multiple harvests. She then moved on to the fertilizers, but nearly did a double-take when she saw its price.

_ Someday, maybe, but not now _ .

She dropped off the seeds on the counter and headed for the grocery aisles. Knowing she was on a tight budget, she went for the most versatile items; milk, oatmeal, rice, canned goods tuna and vegetables (she’d have plenty of fresh ones soon enough if everything went according to plan), eggs, bread and butter. She decided to add a can of frozen orange juice and a jar of peanut butter to round it out. It wasn’t much, but it was what she could afford to get for now.

Finally all set, she headed for the cash register. “Alright, I think I’m good now,” she told Pierre. Behind her, the doorbell chimed as someone else entered the store. By the time she glanced behind, they’d disappeared within the aisles.

As Pierre rang up her purchases, she found herself ogling the backpack on display right by them. Curious, she walked to it and checked its price tag. Her eyes went wide.  _ Yoba, must be some backpack _ .

“Ah yes, you’ll probably need one of those sooner rather than later, uh?” Pierre asked.

“Might end up being later,” she replied. “I definitely can’t afford to spend this kind of money right now,” she sighed, slightly embarrassed.

“I know it’s on the pricier side,” Pierre agreed, “but it’s worth every coin, believe me. Sturdiest fabric I’ve seen, and holds a whole lot, too.”

Behind her, the floorboards creaked as someone approached. Pierre smiled as he waved at the person, prompting Celia to turn around and look for herself.

“Hey there Gus, I’ll be with you in just a moment,” Pierre told him. “You ran into litt- well, not so little anymore Celia yet?”

“Well I’ll be damned, my eyes weren’t tricking me after all!” Gus exclaimed, a wide grin overtaking his face. “Celia Faulkner, what are you doing back in town?”

Gus wasn’t the person Celia remembered most in Pelican town. She remembered he owned the saloon, which she’d always been too young to go in. However, she also remembered that whenever her grandfather had crossed paths with him in town, they’d talked for what had seemed forever, most often leaving her bored out of her mind and restless as she waited to get moving again. Now, however, she was glad for his familiarity.

“I’m taking over Thornwood, believe it or not,” she replied.

He whistled. “That’s quite an endeavour. Glad to hear you’re back for good, though. Pelican Town was overdue for a fresh face.”

She smiled, really liking his perspective. So far, she’d felt like an intruder in the small community and hadn’t considered that the residents of the valley might look favourably at some change.

“Now I couldn’t help but overhear you two talking about that backpack,” he added. “I have one or two old ones I have no use for anymore. They’re nowhere near as sturdy as this racehorse here,” he gestured to the bag, “but they could do the job while you save up for this one, what do you think?”

“Oh, you really don’t have to, I can-” she started, but he cut her off.

“Nonsense,” he interrupted. “I still owed one to good ol’ Harry anyways and it’s been weighing on my mind lately, so you’d be doing me a service, really.”

“That’d be awfully kind of you, Gus,” she replied quietly, moved.

“It’s settled then!” he said triumphantly. “If you don’t mind waiting for me after you settle your bill here, we can swing by the saloon right away.”

She nodded in agreement, thanking him again. She paid Pierre what she owed him, trying not to worry about the significant dent in her wallet it represented, and waited for Gus to do the same. They talked about her grandfather on their way to the saloon, Gus even carrying some her many bags for her. When she followed him in, childlike curiosity overtook her.

Younger, she’d managed to sneak a peek inside once or twice. Now that she was standing there, the space, even empty at this hour, felt more warm and welcoming than she even remembered.

“Wait here,” Gus instructed her as he walked past the swinging saloon doors.

She stared at her surroundings, walked near the walls where pictures were hung. She smiled at one of her grandfather, Gus and another man raising a pint of beer at the camera. If she remembered well, that other man was a fisherman named Willy. She often felt guilty thinking about her grandfather being lonely in his later years, and felt a sudden rush of affection for both Gus and Willy who had been there for him as his friends.

Soon enough, Gus was back with two different backpacks in each hand.

“Here you go, have your pick,” he dropped them on the counter.

She studied both of them. One was bigger but seemed more worse for wear, while the other was small but its straps looked comfier and it seemed more durable.

“I think I’ll go for this one,” she gestured towards the latter. It was made of brown canvas and had leather buckles to tie down the flaps of its compartments, unlike any that were being sold these days.

“Smart choice,” Gus nodded approvingly. He helped her put her new purchases in the bag, only one grocery bag not fitting. “It’s a shame it was gathering dust all this time, I’m sure you’ll put it to better use.”

“Thanks again, Gus,” she hugged him spontaneously. “I won’t forget this.”

“Alright, go now, I’m sure you have plenty planned for the day,” he waved her off, and she could’ve sworn his voice was a little tight from being moved. “Don’t hesitate to drop by anytime, Fridays are especially lively in this place!”

“Noted,” she grinned. “Have a good one,” she bid him goodbye, and stepped back outside, new backpack on her shoulders and remaining grocery bag in hand.

Breathing in deep the fresh spring air and relishing in the warmer rays of the Sun, she started heading back for Thornwood. _ I’ve got this _ , she found herself thinking.


	4. Fire And The Flood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoy this chapter, it was a whole lot of fun to write. also thank you so much to the people who have left kudos and/or bookmarked so far, y'all warm my heart so gd much!!

“Alright, I believe we’re done for the day now,” Harvey said as he walked back into the front of the clinic where Maru was poring over spreadsheets on the computer screen.

“I’m almost done,” Maru replied, swiveling the chair around to face him. “It’ll just be a few minutes.”

Harvey stifled a sigh. “You know you don’t have to do overtime, Maru. Those documents will still be there on Thursday,” he tried reasoning her.

She made a face at him, almost a pout. “Except they won’t,” she said, “because you’ll have worked on them all evening well after your office hours, like you always do,” she argued.

He chuckled at her words. “Yes, well, I’m the one who’s running a clinic,” he explained. “Your help is more than valuable, and you’re a great administrative assistant, but there’s no reason for you to bear its weight.”

She didn’t answer right away, her hands fidgety. “There are plenty of reasons for me to care,” she replied, avoiding his gaze. “I’ve been thinking, maybe I could take up some nursing tasks as well to help out some more,” she suggested, her voice picking up in excitement.

It pained him to have to shut her down right away. “That’s out of the question,” he replied, trying his best to be gentle in his firmness. “You don’t have the training, it would be entirely unprofessional,” he explained.

“But you could show me, with all the downtime we have,” she argued.

He took his glasses off and massaged his temples with his hand. He knew how stubborn she could get, how she never saw any problems, only plenty of solutions. It was usually an asset, but it made for painful discussions at time when he couldn’t afford to let her have her way.

“This isn’t an apprenticeship, you know that,” he said. “I’m a doctor, not a professor. Besides, I can’t afford to raise your salary to match new responsibilities, and I won’t have it said that I underpay you,” he added.

She looked like words were burning her tongue, but she held them in. She didn’t have to say them anyways; he knew what she was thinking.

“Can I please just take a few minutes to finish this then,” she pleaded instead, softly. “I can leave early on Thursday if it makes you feel better,” she offered.

“Fine,” he conceded, glad their disagreement was over.

Satisfied, she turned back around and started typing again after a few seconds. He scanned the desk area and the waiting room, looking for anything out of order that would need his attention. He found none of that, but his attention was caught by a vase filled with golden flowers that tugged at his memory, but he couldn’t figure out why.

“Since when do we keep fresh flowers?” he asked, walking over and catching a whiff of their scent. Again, it rattled at his memory without opening the door.

“Since this morning,” Maru replied, her voice a twinge bitter. “Your welfare project said they wouldn’t make the trip back to her place or something, insisted it would be a shame to waste them,” she explained, not turning around. “Celia Faulkner left them here,” she recapped, her tone apologetic for her previous choice of words.

_ Of course _ . In a flash, the image of her assaulted him. The daffodil in her hand as she’d sat on the ground outside the store, the yellow blooms peeking out of the chest pocket of her overalls. How the scent had filled the examination room as he’d bandaged her hands.

“Right,” he simply responded, too distracted for anything more. “How thoughtful of her,” he added, shaking it off.

He busied himself with the duster he pulled out, doing some light cleaning around the waiting room. He was watering the potted plants when Maru was finally done, nearly twenty minutes past the end of her shift.

“Have a safe walk home,” he waved her off.

“See you Thursday, Doctor Harvey,” she said, her smile faintly sadder than usual. He wondered what was going on with her to explain all her sudden mood changes that day, but figured it was none of his business. She’d still done an impeccable job, and that was all that mattered from a professional standpoint.

He still had plenty to do, but decided to indulge himself a break and went up to his apartment. It was such a clear sky outside, perhaps the airwaves would be busier than usual.

He spent the rest of the afternoon sat at his radio station, before having an early dinner he’d simply popped into the microwave. As he tried reading his medical journal while eating, his mind kept drifting off. It was most unusual for him, he’d always been more comfortable on his own than in the presence of others.

Still, his thoughts kept leading him back to the bouquet of daffodils downstairs. Or, more accurately, to its bearer. She’d nearly given him a heart attack, when he’d seen her outside his door. Every morning for the last five years he’d checked his mailbox before opening the clinic, and never had anyone been out there.

But there she had been, twirling that flower as the sun had made the honey strands of her hair glimmer in the morning light. Had she been humming before he’d startled her out of her reverie? 

All he could remember was the feeling of her hand in his, and the flutter of her eyelashes as she’d stared him down in a way that made him feel like he’d been punched in the gut. She’d been dressed in a way fit for the countryside, but her demeanor suggested someone used to a faster pace of life. He could tell from the way she breathed as fast and shallow as Jodi and her family when they’d moved from the city, only a short time after he’d taken over the clinic.

And then she’d revealed she was familiar with the town. Her mentioning Dr. Garnett had thrown him for a loop; it was the last thing he’d have expected from a newcomer. Instantly, she’d brought back his insecurities from when he’d moved to the valley, freshly graduated from medical school and a whole town on his hands who questioned his ways when they differed from what they were used to. It had taken him so long to gain people’s trust. Still, George wasn’t inclined to follow his advice.

It was her wince that had brought him back from that negative headspace. It had finally dawned on him, that perhaps it was just as unsettling for her to move somewhere where all her bearings had been moved out of where she’d left them.

Her hands had been so badly blistered, it was evident she’d worked with no idea of how to do things properly. He could empathize with her situation; it had been his not actually that long ago.

She’d been an easy patient. Her problem had been simple, evident. It had a simple solution. She’d been perfectly cooperative. He wasn’t sure when she’d turned her head so she wouldn’t see her hands as he punctured the blisters, but he’d had to hold back an amused smile when he’d noticed her eyes were tightly shut. The urge to keep her at ease had been even stronger than it usually was with most other patients.

Maru’s interruption had unsettled him, forcing him to understand that he was doing his new patient a favour she hadn’t even asked for. When she’d chivered outside, there had been no question in his mind about leading her in to tend to her blisters. The fact that the clinic wasn’t open yet hadn’t even popped into his mind. It was as if she’d taken over all his thoughts all at once, making him forget to even introduce himself.

How embarrassing it had been, to introduce himself so long after she had. Before the shame, however, had been the few seconds between which she’d spoken his name and he’d understood why. He liked the way his name sounded when she said it. Everyone in town put his title before his name when speaking to him, but in that first instance, she’d spoken his name alone, and the way she’d done so had sent a shiver down his spine, as if she’d dragged a finger down his chest.

_ Good grief, get a grip, this is hardly appropriate, _ he thought, urging himself out of his recollection of the morning’s events. He forced his mind to drift back to planes as he cleaned his plate and headed back down to finish his work.

He successfully busied himself with paperwork for a while, until well into nightfall. He worked until he couldn’t hold back a yawn, a sign he took as time for him to call it a day. He outstretched his arms, breathing in deep as he prepared to get up and go back upstairs.

He realized his mistake as he simultaneously inhaled the sweet scent of the daffodils further down the counter. Unable to help it, his mind went right back to her.

“Celia,” he murmured to himself, barely audible. “Why is my mind stuck on you, Celia Faulkner?” he wondered out loud, burying his face between his hands.

Speaking her full name gave him an idea. He hadn’t seen her file lie anywhere, which meant Maru must’ve filed it. He almost stopped himself, feeling like it was an invasion of her privacy.  _ You’re the town doctor, you know everybody’s file by heart _ , he chastised himself.  _ It’s only responsible _ .

He found the file right away, the new label sticking out amongst the older ones.

“Let’s see,” he muttered as he sat back down to read it.

Right away, he liked her handwriting. She’d written her name in cursive, the type that wasn’t flowery by any means but made every word read like the title of a book written forever ago.

Then came her date of birth. He saw her birthday was coming up, landing the same day as the Flower Dance. Would people know? Or would she spend the day by her lonesome? Before he could ponder further, he saw her year of birth. The detail alone made him want to put the file away. She was 23, his math added up. He’d sensed she was much younger than him, but this set it in stone. Twenty-three to his thirty-two. Only when he compared their ages was he forced to come to terms with the nature of his interest.

_ Better forget it right away _ , he thought.  _ You’re not that kind of man, and she won’t even glance your way once she’s met everyone _ .

Disappointed, he still read the rest of the form she’d completed; it really was his responsibility as her doctor to know what was on there. Two details stuck out; an unusual allergy to coconuts, and her taking birth control. He wondered if Maru had thought to tell her she could get it right here at the clinic, seeing as they kept a stock since there was no pharmacy around until the next town over.

Feeling very tired all of a sudden, he put away the file back in the filing cabinet.  _ She’s not for you _ , he admitted to himself. It wasn’t like he was head over heels for her, either; they’d only briefly met. He rationalized his interest telling himself it was perfectly normal to have been curious about her, seeing as he was the oldest bachelor in town and his dreams of having his own family had been put on the back burner from the lack of potential partners.

And yet, deep inside he knew it was more than biological. He remembered perfectly when he’d arrived in the valley and how he’d searched the eyes of every woman in town for something that would make his heart beat faster. He remembered the disappointment when he’d realized he wouldn’t find it. And now, he remembered looking into Celia’s eyes as she’d stared right back at him.

For the past year, he’d started having the same recurring dream every now and then. In it, he was always standing right outside the clinic as it poured rain. He was standing outside because the whole building was on fire, and he was watching it engulfed in the flames as the rain drenched him. While in theory the dream was horrific, he was never afraid. It had always only ever filled him with the oddest feeling of being at peace.

The oracle at the Stardew Valley Fair last fall had told him the dream meant that deep down he was longing for significant change. That he felt trapped by his current reality. He’d shaken it off as non-scientific nonsense at first, but that night as he’d dreamed the dream again, he’d woken up with a pit in his stomach. Perhaps the oracle had been on to something, as bothersome as the possibility was.

He hadn’t had a clue as to what might spark this change he apparently so desperately needed. Not much ever changed in Stardew Valley; it was why he’d come there in the first place.

And then she’d been there, right outside his door. A newcomer. Change personified. As he’d helped her up, he’d seen it in her eyes, hadn’t understood right away, but it had been there.

The fire and the flood.


	5. Winds of Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait since the last update! I trapped myself in having too many ways this all could go but I've finally worked out something with myself that I'm really excited about, so next update should come pretty soon! Thanks a bunch for all the lovely comments, too, you guys make me swoon x
> 
> Also put out a 9 part Haley/Sebastian thingy (odd pair but hear me out here: rarepairs are everything) if you want to check that out in between updates!

The following morning, Celia woke up with a sour taste in her mouth and a sore back. Reaching for the curtains covering the window by her bed, she pulled them back to reveal that the sky was grey. It wasn’t raining as of yet, but from the sky she could tell it was anyone’s guess whether it would rain or not later.

She’d worked hard all afternoon long the previous day, tilling a modest patch of land directly in front of the cabin where she’d planted the parsnip seeds in square clusters and the green beans in single lines for better access. If it did rain today, she would not have to water them, a prospect her sore body yearned for.

As she dressed up and ate breakfast, she pondered what she could do to rest her aching limbs while still being productive. Clearing out the land was out of the question; she was in no shape to try her hand at chopping down trees or breaking rocks apart.

The memory of summer days when her grandfather would wake her up early to go fishing surfaced in her mind. Over the years they’d fished in just about every body of water in the valley, but Celia’s favourite had always been the ocean by far. It could be a great way to spend her day, especially if she figured out how to sell the fish, but she had no fishing rod.

Then she remembered the picture in the Saloon. Perhaps the old fisherman her grandfather had been friends with, Willy, could at least orient her in the right direction for one.

Resolved, she put on a fleece jacket on top of her overalls and baseball tee. She guessed the oceanside might be colder this time of year. She packed her windbreaker and a peanut butter sandwich in her new backpack and headed out for the town. It was quite early still, but she knew the walk to the ocean was not a short one.

She whistled as she walked, inhaling deeply all the smells that were unearthed by the humidity in the air. The town was eerily quiet as she walked its cobblestones paths, her footsteps the loudest sound around save for the odd bird chirp. As she passed the graveyard, an odd fog seemed to be floating there, sending a chill down her spine. She quickened her pace, anxious to get to the stone bridge that would lead her to the beach.

The smell of saltwater hit her before she even saw the waves. Its familiarity filled her with a peace she’d yearned for ever since she’d stepped off the bus. For a brief moment, every last inch of her worry and guilt were lifted, and she felt like she’d barely been breathing for as long as she could remember.

She walked to the water eagerly as the seaside wind brushed past her incessantly. The ocean was restless that morning, tall waves coming to die on the coast. Wet splashes flew towards her, but she relished in them. She wasn’t quite sure what it was she was feeling, but she couldn’t have minded less.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Celia was back in town, drenched and frustrated out of her mind. Willy had been kind enough to give her an old fishing rod he no longer had any use for, but had forgotten to mention the ocean fish were especially crafty. For all the time she’d spent on the docks, she’d only managed to catch a handful of frail herrings, and heaps of algae and trash. Too absorbed in bettering her skill and cursing the seaweed she inevitably reeled in, she hadn’t seen the signs of the impending storm. As a result, when the thunderous rain had broken out by mid-afternoon, she was still a very long way from home.

Resigned, she’d brought in what she’d fished to Willy who had graciously accepted to pay her for all of it. It wasn’t much, but more than she had expected, and for a moment she wasn’t so discouraged.

As she’d trekked back to town, however, the wind and rain had picked up, almost violent by the seaside. Her flimsy windbreaker was no match, and the denim of her overalls was soaked from the waist-down. She’d tripped on a buried rock and fell onto the wet sand, which refused to unstick itself from her clothing no matter how much she attempted to brush it off with her hand. Any sense of inner peace she’d had earlier was long gone by then, and she was more than done with her day by the town she reached the town square.

She was cold, exhausted and hungry when she heard the Stardrop’s door slam shut. The thought of readied food and the fireplace she’d seen in there the previous day were entirely more appealing than the rest of the walk back to the farm under the pouring rain. Relieved, she headed for the saloon, her stomach grumbling.

There weren’t many people in yet when she stepped through the door, but she didn’t take the time to look at them. She smiled and waved at Gus, who looked at her funny, and headed straight for the roaring fire in the fireplace. She shivered in comfort as the heat embraced her, and peeled off her windbreaker. She didn’t even want to think about how much of a mess she probably looked, soaked and airbrushed in sand. She wanted to pat off some more, but she abstained because she didn’t want to turn the saloon into a beach.

“You okay there, Celia?” Gus asked her, having walked to the end of the bar near to where she was. He was concerned, but she could feel he was stifling a laugh.

“Yeah,” she sighed, smiling in defeat. “Turns out the ocean doesn’t like me nearly as much as I like it,” she said.

“She’s a tough lady,” he conceded, amused. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Can I get you anything to drink?”

Her stomach rumbled again.

“I think I’m more in the market for something to eat, if you don’t mind,” she replied, embarrassed.

“I know just what you need,” he smiled. “Stay put, I’ll be right back,” he added, and walked away, not leaving her any time to respond.

Grateful, she felt the tenseness in her shoulders fade. Having warmed up by then, she looked around, and was surprised to recognize Harvey sitting at the bar, not too far from her. She realized he’d been looking at her, but he’d averted his gaze when she’d seen him. She suddenly became very aware of her dirty clothes and tousled hair.

Still, she felt like it was only polite to go and salute him. Breathing in deep, willing herself to ignore how she probably looked, she walked up to him.

“Hi there, Doctor Harvey,” she said with a smile.

“Hello, Celia,” he smiled back, turning to look at her. “Were you surprised by the storm, by any chance?” he asked, eyeing her up and down with an amused grin.

She blushed, embarrassed. “Are you here avoiding the rain too?” she asked, hoping to shift the attention away from her.

He nodded. “I usually spend my afternoons outside, but when the weather is so… well, uclement, I tend to find my way in here,” he explained, gesturing to their surroundings.

She heard laughing come from the room past the fireplace when Gus approached them, setting a plate of spaghetti on the bar beside Harvey.

“Eat up, you look like you need it,” Gus ordered her with a wink. “Ain’t nothing better than a hot plate of spaghetti in weather like this.”

“That looks delicious, thank you so much,” she sighed in appreciation.

She was about to climb onto the stool next to Harvey’s when she realized he might prefer being on his own, if he’d come here alone.

“Do you mind if I…?” she asked, pointing to the stool.

“Please,” he smiled warmly, before taking a sip of his coffee.

She sat down and was about to grab her knife and fork when she finally saw which state her hands were in. The bandages she’d clumsily wrapped around her palms that morning were wet and grey, speckled with sand. She looked down at her hands helplessly, slightly horrified. She turned to see if Harvey had seen, and could only look at him sheepishly when she saw he had indeed noticed.

“I see you’ve been keeping these clean as instructed,” Harvey teased, taking another sip.

“Sorry…,” she apologized, but what for she wasn’t certain.

“No need to be sorry,” he eased her worry right away. “But you should probably take these off and wash your hands,” he advised. He paused, looking like he wanted to say more. “If you want to come by the clinic on your way back, I could give you some fresh ones.”

“That would be great,” Celia grinned, thankful. “I had to start over three times this morning and this was still the best I could do, I think I might need you to remind me how to put them on properly,” she admitted.

“I’d be glad to,” he chuckled.

She couldn’t help but smile at his laugh. It was quiet and gentle, but still reached his eyes. Realizing she was staring, she excused herself to the bathroom so she could wash her hands. She had to go through the backroom with the pool table to do so, and saw that the laughter she’d heard earlier had come from a cluster of three people.

They didn’t see her when she passed, because they were all busy watching a video on the girl’s phone. Not having wanted to draw attention to herself, she hadn’t lingered long enough to see if she knew them. They had seemed young, however, probably around her age.

The notion of them left her mind as soon as she stepped into the bathroom and saw her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her clothes from the waist down were two shades darker from still being damp. Her hair was frizzy from having started to dry off from the rain. She looked like a mess, to put it simply, but at least not catastrophically so.

Promptly taking off her bandages and washing her hands, she proceeded to smooth down her hair and braid it so it wouldn’t look so wild. She tried wiping off leftover sand from her overalls with a paper towel but failed miserably. Remembering the hot plate of spaghetti waiting for her, she abdicated and decided she’d done as much as she could.

This time, however, making her way back to the bar she did not go unnoticed by the trio she’d passed. They were still looking at the girl’s phone, but she raised her head at the sound of footsteps and squinted at Celia for a half second before smiling in recognition.

“No way,” she grinned, simultaneously dropping her hand to the side and shutting off her phone, earning a groan from the dark-haired boy by her side. “My dad told me you were back in town, but I kinda thought he was trying to prank me!”

Her purple hair bounced as she stepped forward. Celia finally recognized her.

“Abigail?” she asked, shocked. She hadn’t seen her in years, and she looked nothing like the lanky, troublesome little girl she remembered.

“Who else?” Abigail grinned, having made her way up to her and embracing her in a quick but tight hug. “It’s so cool seeing you again after so long! Remember Sebastian?” she asked, gesturing to the shorter of the two guys that had stayed back.

Celia hesitated. She did have a vague memory of a gloomy boy who rarely came down to town, but she couldn’t remember having ever been friends with him. “Hi,” she waved, unsure he had any memory of her.

“Welcome back to town,” he replied, a hint of snark in his tone like he couldn’t understand why she’d want to be back.

Abigail rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him, he’s not exactly the king of enthusiasm.”

The other boy mimicked a cough, making Abigail smirk. “And that’s Sam. Don’t think you were still around when he got here, right?” she asked.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, no,” Celia replied. “I’m Celia,” she smiled at him, “I just took over my grandfather’s farm, west of town,” she clarified.

“So I’ve heard,” he grinned. “Nice to meet you. This town was overdue for someone new to come in and shake things up a bit, glad to see it’s finally happening.”

“Glad I can be of service,” Celia chuckled.

“Hey, if you like music, you should totally crash our band practice some time! We could totally use some outside perspective on our sound,” he invited her spontaneously.

“Sam, we’re not even close to ready for an audience,” Sebastian scowled.

“I think Sam’s right,” Abigail interjected, “You guys could use the pressure to get things moving instead of just talking about playing,” she teased.

“So what d’you say?” Sam asked her expectantly. There was something disarming about how earnest he was, like she couldn’t imagine saying no to him.

“Sure,” she replied, pleased at the warm welcome. “I don’t see why not,” she grinned.

“Awesome,” he replied, smiling wide at her.

Out the corner of her eye, she could see Sebastian rolling his eyes and Abigail smirking.

“Well, it was great seeing you guys, but my food’s getting cold,” she excused herself, glancing back behind her to the main room of the saloon.

“We’ll stop hogging you then,” Abigail replied, still inexplicably amused. “See you around, Celia,” she waved.

Celia waved back before finally walking back to the bar. She frowned upon noticing Harvey was no longer sat there; in fact, looking around, he was nowhere to be found.

“He left in a hurry,” Gus told her. He was washing glasses a little ways down and had noticed her confusion. “Muttered something about the clinic.”

Celia nodded. She wouldn’t have said out loud, but she was disappointed. She’d been glad she would have an excuse to chat with Harvey, but it seemed he had better things to do. Resigned, she sat back in front of her meal and dug in. She grimaced when she felt the cold pasta against her mouth.

“Want me to warm that up for you?” Gus asked her.

Celia considered her plate. She wasn’t so hungry anymore, for some reason. “Actually, do you mind if I take this to go?” She also noticed the half-drunk cup of coffee next to her. “And a decaf to go, if that’s not asking too much?”

Gus nodded, unsurprised by her request. “Sure, gimme a sec and I’ll get it ready for you,” he agreed, grabbing her plate.

She was mindlessly tapping her fingers on the wooden surface of the bar, waiting, when Sam erupted from the other room and came up to her in a hurry.

“Hey!” he started, promptly grabbing a stool next to hers and plopping down on it.

She looked at him quizzically. “Hey?”

“I invited you to watch us practice but didn’t give you any details,” he told her, still grinning just as wide as earlier. “Just swing by my house any Saturday afternoon. It’s the blue one at the end of Willow Lane, right by the forest. You can’t miss it,” he explained.

“Sounds good,” she chuckled, amused. “I look forward to seeing you guys in action,” she smiled.

“Oh, you’re not even ready for our live show,” he joked, getting off the stool. “The energy is e-lec-tric,” he continued, making sure to accentuate each syllable of the last word.

She laughed at that. “I wouldn’t expect any less,” she replied. She started putting her coat back on.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it,” he told her, and started walking away. “But do swing by!”

“I will,” she grinned at him. “Bye, Sam,” she waved.

“I’ll see you around,” he waved back.

She found herself hoping he actually would.


	6. The Things I Regret

Harvey wasn’t sure why he’d left the saloon in such a hurry. One second he’d been minding his business, waiting for Celia to come back while drinking his coffee with a smile that annoyingly refused to fade away. He’d had to keep his mug to his mouth to hide it. Next thing he knew, he’d turned his head and seen her talking with the other ones, the ones her own age. He didn’t see everything, but he’d heard her chuckle and had seen how Sam was standing straighter while talking to her. He’d never seen Sam stand with such good picture the whole time he’d known him.

It had hit him suddenly, how foolish he’d been to think she was genuinely happy to have her meal with him. What would they even talk about? He’d stood up abruptly, putting on his coat and tossing a few coins on the bar for his half-drunk cup of coffee.

“Got to get back to the clinic,” he’d muttered when Gus had raised an eyebrow at his precipitation.

And briskly, he’d left, heading for the door before even buttoning up his coat. He might as well save them both the awkwardness, he figured. Besides, now that she’d met Abigail, Sebastian and Sam, she’d probably rather spend her time with them.

He barely minded the rain, which had slowed down just enough to be bearable, as he walked back to the familiarity of the clinic. Only when he got in did he realize he’d been holding his breath, and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths. Calmer, he shed his coat and walked to the back of the clinic. He had to restock some of the supply cabinets, and surely that would keep him busy enough.

Since the clinic was technically closed, he allowed himself to bring down the radio from his apartment and started shifting through the channels until he found one that played music he liked. He went for a station that played old records, the kind that sounded even more staticky than his radio did. A song had just ended, and a new one started. It was upbeat in a way songs just weren’t anymore, something that seemingly mentioned angel eyes every other word. It was nowhere close to the jazz he usually listened to, but he wasn’t in the mood for jazz anyways.

Had it not been for a break in the song, he wouldn’t have heard the chime of the door opening back at the front. Had he forgotten to switch the signage to ‘closed’? Confused, he made his way to the front desk.

Celia was at the counter, tapping her fingers and bobbing her head along to the song. She stopped when she saw him come her way. She hadn’t yet taken her coat off, and there was a brown paper bag and a cup to go on the counter beside her. She smiled at him, but it felt timid, almost apprehensive.

“Hey,” Celia started, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. He noticed she’d braided it since he’d last seen her. “Is it still okay if I grab a couple bandages?”

He finally remembered his spontaneous offer back at the saloon. He was shocked she wasn’t still back there, wasn’t quite sure what to make of her presence in front of him.

“I know you left the saloon quickly, so if you’re busy it’s completely fine,” she said after a few seconds only.

He cursed himself for the situation he’d created. If he made time for her, he’d look like he left for no reason, but if he didn’t, she’d leave. Harvey, you’re her doctor now, stop this nonsense, he chastised himself.

“No, it’s perfectly fine,” he blurted, having set his mind. “It’s nothing that can’t wait. Do you mind joining me in the back? I’ll get the cloth ready while you take your coat off,” he offered.

She nodded, and somehow looked a bit relieved. She really must have been having trouble with those bandages, he figured. He headed for the examination room, needing the head start to collect his thoughts. Getting everything ready helped him getting into his professional headspace. It didn’t matter that he had no idea how to act around her; he knew how to be a doctor, and he would focus on that.

She walked into the examination room a few moments later. She had that travel cup in her hand as she stepped in.

“I saw that you left your coffee half-empty back at the saloon,” she started, not meeting his eyes. “I thought you might like to have some more,” she explained. “Unless you didn’t and that’s why you left it like that, which would make-” she started rambling.

“Thank you,” he stopped her, taking the cup. “It’s a lovely thought. It might take me longer to fall asleep tonight,” he said, checking his watch, “but I’m afraid it’s a gift I can’t resist,” he smiled gently.

He wasn’t sure why she was so jittery, and he instinctively wanted her to feel at ease.

“It’s a good thing I got you decaf, then,” she replied, smiling as she bit her cheek.

His heart fluttered at the attention she’d given to this seemingly insignificant gift, especially for someone who didn’t know coffee was his favourite. He ignored it as best he could.

“Indeed,” he huffed. “Here, you know the drill,” he added, gesturing to the platform.

Moments later, they were right back to where they’d been the previous morning. As he was sitting down on his stool, the song on the radio faded to another one. He recognized it, but couldn’t remember the name. She grinned as the first lyrics were sung.

“I love that song,” she told him. Her foot was tapping ever so lightly at the platform to the beat of the music.

“Really?” he replied, surprised. “Isn’t it really old?” he asked, amused, as he laid the bandages flat to ready them.

“So?” she shot back, almost defiant. “I don’t see why that should make me like it any less,” she added.

He tried not to react at her words. They felt absurdly ironic in his ears.

“I’ll disinfect your hands again before I show you how to do it again,” he chose to respond, readying a cotton ball. “Better safe than sorry,” he said as he took her hand into his own and started rubbing the cotton balm on her palm. He tried his hardest not to redden when the song spoke of holding each other’s hands just as he did so.

“My grandpa used to play this station all the time when i visited him as a kid,” she started reminiscing. “They still play the same songs, apparently,” she chuckled, and paused. “It’s odd, hearing them again now that he’s not here anymore,” she added, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice. “It feels unfair that I get to listen to them still and he doesn’t, somehow.”

He squeezed her hand gently as he put aside the cotton ball, lifting his eyes back to hers.

“I won’t pretend I knew him as well as you did,” he told her, “but I have a feeling he’d rather have you enjoy them still than have them make you feel guilty for something you have nothing to be guilty about.”

She bit her lip, not replying right away. The song reached its chorus, slower as if to match her silence. His heart thrummed in his chest as he studied her face.

“I guess you’re right,” she sighed. “It’s just that…” she wanted to add, but caught herself. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m unloading this all of you. Coming back here is making me more emotional than I thought it would,” she apologized.

He let go of her hand to ready another cotton ball. “Please, don’t apologise. I can only imagine what it must be like,” he replied.

He wanted to tell her he’d be glad to listen if she needed him to, but he was struggling to toe the line in remembering they’d only met the previous day. Her shoulders relaxed as he took her other hand and started disinfecting it just the same.

“I chose to come back here so I could leave all my regrets in the city, have a fresh start you know?” she said, her voice small with vulnerability. “But now that I’m here… It’s like I can only remember what I want to forget,” she sighed.

“The valley will do that to you,” he nodded, now done with the disinfectant. He forgot to let go of her hand as his eyes met hers. “It breaks your bones in all their weakest points. You just have to keep in mind broken bones heal back stronger than they ever were before,” he advised her.

Her face was hard to read as she just stared at him thoughtfully in response. He felt the back of his neck grow hot as he worried he might have overstepped.

She ended up nodding slightly, averting her eyes. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

The song that had been playing ended, and soon a male voice crooned about yesterday's troubles. That darned radio had a knack for absurd timing all of a sudden. He cleared his throat, wishing to reset the energy in the room.

“Alright, how about you show me what you remember and I’ll help you figure out what you should do differently?” he offered.

“I can do that,” she nodded once more.

They spent the next few minutes going over the correct way to wrap the bandages around her palms. She seemed to lighten up as she laughed at her failed attempts, until she eventually got the hang of it.

“There you go, couldn’t have done it better myself,” he praised her as she finished off her last hand.

“I learned from the best,” she replied playfully. “Thank you for the follow-up lesson.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he brushed it off. “You’re a good student,” he added half-jokingly. “Here, let me walk you back to the front.”

He waited for her to get off the examination platform and followed her to the waiting area, holding out the doors for her.

“So, what do I owe you?” she asked him, making her way to the backpack she’d left with her coat.

“It was nothing, really, don’t worry about it,” he replied. “I should’ve made sure you understood the first time around.”

She furrowed her brows at him. “Harvey, that’s ridiculous.”

“Please, I insist,” he retorted, only more determined from hearing her call him by his first name only once more. He really wished more people would.

“This is the second time you’ve helped me, and- hang on,” she stopped, looking at the opening hours decaled on the door. “Are you seeing me on your off hours again?” she asked.

He felt his cheeks redden with heat despite his best efforts to keep a cool composure. “Consider this part of the welcome package,” he replied. “It’s a 48 hour deal,” he said, not technically lying because the welcome package was something he’d made up the previous day.

She looked at him dubiously. “You’re a great doctor, but you’re really bad at running a business, Harvey,” she told him.

There it was again. Her telling him he was a great doctor filled him with something restless and hard to describe. “Maybe so,” he laughed good-heartedly as she started putting her coat back on. “It seems the thunderstorm has lulled, better make the most of it while it lasts,” he commented as he looked out the window. “Are you headed home?”

“Absolutely,” she confirmed. “All the fruitless fishing this morning has me spent, I’m going to enjoy doing absolutely nothing productive for the rest of the day,” she chuckled.

“That’s a good idea, make sure you don’t overwork yourself while your body isn’t used to farmwork yet or you’ll end up with back problems,” he said, slipping mindlessly back into his medical mindset.

She smirked amusedly, before her smile softened into a grateful one. “Thanks for everything today,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he replied, truly meaning it. “I remember how isolating it was to move here on my own. I know you already know some people around town, but if you ever need someone to talk to, opening hours don’t apply,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she simply replied in earnest. “I guess I’ll see you around town, then,” she place her hand on the door, lingering before pushing it open.

“Goodbye, Celia,” he said. “I hope your hands heal soon,” he added as she pushed the door open.

She gave him one last smile before stepping out into the light rain. As he watched her walk away through the glass of the door, the song on the radio taunted him about wanting somebody to love. He muttered a curse as he walked up to it, changing the station for the news. The first two sentences reminded him about the war going on out there, somewhere. Resigned, he shut the radio off before getting back to his shelving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand at last, a new chapter! I just want to thank everyone who has let me know they appreciate this story so far, it's really motivating me to stay focused on continuing it.
> 
> If anyone's interested, the songs playing on the radio in this chapter are; Pretty Little Angel Eyes by Curtis Lee, I Think We're Alone Now by Tommy James & The Shondells (if you've watched The Umbrella Academy you'll know the 80s version of this song!!), Yesterday by The Beatles, and Somebody to Love by Jefferson Airplane. I didn't want to name them in the story itself because a) not necessary b) they don't technically exist in the stardewverse and I know my fellow type As out there would be bothered. Give these songs a listen for an all out 60s jam, you will not regret it. 
> 
> Until next chapter x


	7. Moving Parts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello it me again, coming through with an update for y'all because this is international women's rights day and this is women's rights (but also please love and protect your local trans, disabled, and indigenous women fiercely they deserve and need it)!
> 
> i've been looking forward to this part of the story a lot, and i'm even more excited for next chapter so hold on to your cowboy hats ladies!! 
> 
> general housekeeping: tweaked the summary, and also yes the title is from the song by iconic folk skinny legend trixie mattel go stream two birds & one stone thank you

Spring flashed in a blur for Celia as she settled into the Valley. She’d learned the hard way just how necessary scarecrows were, had let more fish slip through her fingers than she’d reeled in, and had barely made it out of the mines that one day, but all in all, she was still making progress.

She now had a nice patch of land cleared out in front of her house where various vegetables were growing, and while she had yet to get the full hang of fishing, she still managed to catch enough fish to round out her earnings. She was now looking into chopping enough wood for Robin to build her a coop, and used the days where she felt lazier to collect items she could gift the junimos in the abandoned community center.

However, having kept herself so busy, she hadn’t had the most time to socialize with the residents of Pelican Town. She was sure she’d met everyone, even the old hermit in the mountains and the wizard in the forest, but on the evenings where she got lonely in her dimly lit cabin, she wished she had actual friends to go to for more than a wave and a polite conversation.

She’d seen Harvey frequently at first, using her blistered hands as an excuse to drop by the clinic with a fresh coffee in hand nearly every other day, but her hands had quickly healed and she rarely made it to town before his closing hours anymore. She’d also been invited repeatedly by Sam and Abigail to hang out with them, but Sebastian’s scowl in the background had been more than enough to discourage her from imposing.

Ultimately, the people she felt closest to by the end of Spring were Emily and Gus; her cheerful disposition and outgoing nature made her easy to chat with as she dropped by, and Gus never failed to make sure she had everything she needed with that paternal smile of his. It did help that cooking in her cabin was absolutely frustrating, which often lead her to give up and waste some of her hard-earned gold on Gus’ dish of the day. She planned to gift him some produce once she would be able to spare it, eventually, to repay him for his kindness for all those times he’d docked his prices for her.

Because of all of this, Celia felt grateful when she got to wake up on the day of her birthday and all she had to do was water her crops before getting ready for the Flower Dance. Having seen how much people enjoyed the Egg Festival, she’d resolved not to grab the limelight of the Flower Dance and hadn’t told anyone it was her birthday. Sure, some folks in town had been there the one time she’d attended back when she was barely a teen, but she didn’t expect anyone to remember.

She was quite pleased when she stepped out and found out it was already warm and bright. She’d worn nothing but denim since moving into Thornwood, and was looking forward to busting out a sundress for the special occasion. She’d already picked out the one she wanted to wear, having wanted to make sure it wasn’t creased all over from being stored in a makeshift wooden chest.

It was simple, a white linen dress that hit just below her knee, with big chunky buttons going all the way down in the front. The length was modest in a flattering way, but she was a bit more nervous about the top part, which was tied into a knot and held up by thin straps. It revealed more cleavage than she’d ever shown since moving, though to be fair she’d only worn crewnecks under her overalls. She felt silly for worrying about it; she’d worn it plenty of times in the city for more casual occasions and had never even questioned it.

After the watering was done, Celia resolved to take a bit of time to clear out a bit more land. The dance technically started at 9, but she’d be damned if she was to show up there so early. Emily had told her the actual dancing usually kicked off in the early afternoon. She planned on arriving on time for a late lunch, so she would at least get the free food. From what Gus had told her, the buffet seemed particularly alluring.

Once she was properly grimy from enough farmwork, Celia called it a day and hopped into the shower. She played her own music louder than usual as she went all out on the pampering; she didn’t know when else she would get an excuse to. She truly pulled out the works; shaving, full-body scrub, face mask, nail polish, and topped it off with makeup. She’d never been much of a makeup artist, but knew enough to pull off highlighter and a subtle gloss. As for her hair, she’d simply let it air dry into its natural curls like usual, but decided to top it off with a dainty hairpin.

When she was finally done, she looked herself up and down appreciatively in the old full-sized mirror that had been her grandfather’s. It had been so long since she’d taken the time to get dolled up, even back in the city, and it gave her a boost of confidence to know she could still pull it off, arguably better than before now that she looked generally healthier.

When she was ready to step out, she was a bit early on her schedule, but decided to simply take the scenic route through the forest. It was her birthday; she was resolved to make the most of it, especially after the previous year’s fiasco. Shuddering, she shelved the memory far away.

On her way, she happened to pass by Leah’s cabin just as she was stepping out herself. She looked gorgeous, wearing a deep green flowy tunic, lined with tassels that gave the look a perfectly bohemian feel. Leah waved enthusiastically at her when she saw her a little ways down.

“Celia!” she’d called out, smiling wide. “Well, don’t you clean up nice, uh?” she teased with a wink as she walked up to her.

“I could say the same for you,” Celia smiled back. She liked Leah and the way her mind worked, and had enjoyed the conversations they’d had when both dining at the Stardrop. “That color really brings your eyes out,” she complimented.

“Thanks,” Leah grinned. “Wanna walk together?”

“Absolutely,” Celia replied. She’d slightly dreaded arriving on her own and finding everyone mingling already, so Leah’s presence by her side was definitely welcome.

“I thought I would be the last one there,” Leah said as they walked towards the field. “Happy to know we’ll at least both share that spotlight,” she quipped. “Who’s your dance partner?”

Celia frowned, puzzled. “Dance partner?” she mirrored the question.

“You know, for the opening dance,” Leah replied as though it was evident. She then noticed Celia’s slightly disappointed expression. “Don’t worry about it, most people pair up minutes before,” she tried reassuring her.

“It’s okay, really,” Celia attempted to brush it off. “I’m not really close in that way with anyone yet either way,” she explained, slightly flushed with embarrassment. “I’m mostly going for the food.”

“Oh, you and me both,” Leah laughed.

“What about you, who are you going to be dancing with?” Celia asked, hoping to shift the focus away from her own ignorance of the customs. Had there been an opening dance when she’d been all those years ago, or had her and her grandpa arrived late and missed it?

Leah bit her lip, smiling. “Elliott’s all but asked,” she confessed. “I think he didn’t want me to feel pressured into it. Keeps calling me a free spirit, it’s cute that he gives me so much space.”

Celia’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Wait, are you and Elliott…?” she asked. She’d mostly seen him around the beach, had no idea him and Leah were even friends.

Leah laughed in response. “I’ve been wondering the same thing, to be honest. We’ve definitely been spending a bunch of time together lately, but I don’t know, I’m just letting things run their course right now,” she answered freely.

Celia nodded, slightly envious. She hadn’t had, well, any type of romantic life for the past year, and while she was used to being on her own, she missed the giddiness of the start of something new.

“What about you, got your eye on anyone?” Leah asked, a mischievous glint to her eye.

Celia felt herself redden as the memory of her hands in Harvey’s popped in her mind. “Not really. I can’t say that I’ve given it much thought,” she replied, hoping to convince her.

Leah hummed dubiously in reply, but didn’t press further. They chatted light-heartedly as they progressed, right up until they reached the clearing. Celia couldn’t help but smile as she took in the endless flower decorations, the old-timey music playing loud, the paper banners and the crowd of people chatting away. Everyone seemed to have made at least some amount of effort to dress up, and in the moment, Celia wouldn’t have wished to be anywhere else.

“Hello there, girls!” Pierre saluted them from his booth. “Can I interest you in some flowers?” he asked, showing off tubs filled with bright flowers.

“I’ll make sure to stop by later!” Leah replied, before slipping away towards the river, where Celia noticed Elliott was standing, staring past the water absentmindedly.

Before she could craft an excuse to avoid having to browse his stock, Celia heard Emily call out to her. She smiled at Pierre apologetically, and headed for her blue-haired friend who was gesturing at her to come close.

“You made it!” Emily exclaimed, pulling her into a quick one-armed embrace since her other hand was busy holding up a colorful drink. Her bright red halter shift flowed around her with every one of her movements.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Celia asked with a chuckle as she pulled away.

“No, but I did start wondering when you didn’t show up by the time everyone else had,” she replied playfully.

“Leah wasn’t there either!” Celia argued back, playing into it.

“Leah doesn’t count, she’s always late,” Emily countered smugly.

Right then, a visibly distressed Haley sprung up on them, Alex in tow.

“Emily!” she cried, grabbing her sister’s shoulder. “It’s a disaster, Alex ruined my dress,” she lamented, somehow without animosity for him.

To Celia, the short, off-the-shoulder garment seemed perfectly fine. It was fun to look at, covered in ruffles in a way probably only Haley could pull off.

“Well, hold on now,” Alex intervened, trying to defend himself.

“I tripped and he caught me by my dress,” Haley explained. “See the huge rip there?” she asked, pulling on a slightly torn translucent ruffle.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Emily nodded compassionately, before walking away to where the tables were set up. Celia watched her go, not sure what she was doing precisely.

“Hey Celia,” Haley finally saluted her with a sigh of relief. She looked her up and down quickly. “That dress looks really cute on you, you should ditch the overalls more often,” she commented, before promptly following in the steps of her sister.

Had Celia not met Haley when she was still just a brutally honest pigtailed little girl, she would’ve thought it was a backhanded compliment. Thankfully, she knew better, having enough experience in the Haley department.

“She’s right you know,” Alex raised an eyebrow at her, “That dress fits you much better than the overalls,” he said in his usual flirty tone. He was openly looking her up and down, and she shifted on her feet, feeling suddenly bashful.

“Hi, Alex,” she greeted him in reply, choosing not to engage with his flirting. She knew it was more a personality trait of his than a show of interest at this point. Thankfully him and Haley weren’t dating as far as she knew, otherwise the situation would’ve been a whole new shade of awkward.

“Ready to dance the night away?” he asked jokingly, taking a bite of some appetizer he was carrying on a paper plate. Right then, Haley called out for him from the other corner of the field. “Sorry, duty calls,” he winked. “Have fun today,” he added, and walked away.

Celia was then left standing alone by the fence, slightly overwhelmed with the bustling action since her arrival. Pelican Town was much livelier when you put all of its inhabitants in one spot. Wishing to move before Pierre asked her to look at his flowers again, Celia was relieved when she spotted Harvey with George and Evelyn on the other side of the field. With a spring in her step, she strode towards them.

“Everyone doing okay here?” she asked the group as she walked up, aware George was Harvey’s most recurring patient.

“Yes dear, nothing to bother you about,” Evelyn smiled at her warmly. Celia had taken a liking to the elderly woman, to whom she always made sure to offer fresh flowers when she saw her and was carrying some. “And don’t you look stunning today, look at you!” she added, studying Celia. “Doesn’t she look so lovely, boys?” Evelyn asked her husband and Harvey.

George mumbled a groan, and Harvey was silently staring at her, eyes wide behind his glasses.

“Yes, uhm, just lovely,” he stuttered, cheeks flushing slightly.

Celia couldn’t help but blush in delight. Evelyn gave them a knowing smile, before saying something about keeping George fed and wheeling him away towards the buffet.

“Hi,” Celia smiled at Harvey.

“Hi,” he replied with a nervous laugh. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Just lovely,” she smirked playfully. She noticed his flush turn a shade pinker, and her heart did a somersault in her ribcage.

“How have your hands been?” he asked her, sounding genuinely concerned.

“All healed up, thanks to you,” she replied with a giddy grin. “See?” she said, extending her palms towards him so her could see for himself. She would’ve given anything to have him hold them again in his gentle grasp.

“Glad to hear it. Say,” he started, pulling at the collar of his shirt slightly, “Are you dancing with anyone for the opening dance?” he asked her.

Her heart skipped a beat.  _ Don’t get excited, Celia, he’s just making conversation _ . “Not that I know of,” she chuckled softly. “What about you?”

He took a moment to answer, seemingly pondering. “I’m still working up the courage to ask someone, actually,” he replied, his eyes latching onto hers. Those kind, mesmerizing eyes of his. Her heart was now stammering in her chest.

He seemed about to add something when Emily appeared beside her. “Okay! Crisis Haley is officially averted,” she declared enthusiastically. “Now it’s time to get a drink in your hand, missy,” she decided, shooting Harvey a conspiratorial look. “You’ve got to taste the lavender mead I got Gus to order for today, it’s delicious. Doc’, you mind if I steal her away from you for a second?”

Harvey’s face fell briefly, but he regained his composure just as fast. “Sure, she’s all yours,” he smiled at Emily.

Without skipping a beat, Emily grabbed Celia’s hand and started dragging her to the buffet tables. Celia managed to turn her head around, shooting an apologetic smile at Harvey. The last thing she saw before Emily demanded her whole attention was Maru approaching him confidently.

“I call these,” Emily told her, handing her a fizzy purple drink, “Amethyst Surprises,” she announced, a proud smile plastered on her face. “Go on, give it a try!”

Celia cautiously took a sip. Emily had started using her as a guinea pig for her the cocktails she created when she was bored at the Saloon. While some were delicious, others were truly awful. The worst so far had been her ‘Spicy Ruby’, and odd mix of gin and pepper essence that had lit a fire in her mouth.

Thankfully, this new drink was much sweeter, and tasted of blackberries. “These are awesome, Emily,” she replied giddily.

“You’re gonna have to give me the recipe for ‘em,” Abigail pitched in, having heard their conversation from a little ways down the table.

Emily beamed at the praise. “Thanks, you guys.” She then seemed to see something that worried her over Celia’s shoulder, her smile turning into a frown. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna make sure Shane stays clear headed enough to remember he owes me a dance before the main event.”

She brushed past them, and Celia was left to stand with Abigail. “Cool shorts,” Celia complimented her outfit. Abigail was wearing striped purple shorts with a paperbag waist, and they suited her very well paired with her dark halter top.

“Thanks!” Abigail smiled back. “My mom wanted me to wear a skirt at least, but I have my ways of getting what I want,” she winked. “You look pretty in that dress, too,” she returned the compliment.

“Yeah, you look awesome,” she heard someone say behind her.

She turned around to see Sam standing there, grinning as usual. He was definitely more dressed up than she was used to seeing him, having traded in his brown pants for tan khakis and his hoodie for a button-up shirt speckled with tiny palm trees. He seemed to have done something with his hair too, making it less wild somehow. It looked good on him, this dressier look. It aged him a bit.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Celia replied, suddenly a bit shy. She hated that she was unable to compliment guys casually as soon as she had the tiniest sliver of interest in them.

Abigail and Sam were quick to put her back at ease, however, with their lively banter. She chatted with them for a while, Sebastian eventually joining them with a moan about how lame this whole event was. Celia remained with them until Mayor Lewis grabbed the microphone on a small makeshift stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, find your partners, it’s now time for the opening dance!” he proclaimed, his voice livelier than usual. Celia suspected it had something to do with the glass of cherry wine in his hand.

Prompted by the cue, people started putting down their paper plates and moving around, pairing up.

“Come on Seb, it’s showtime,” Abigail said, looking at Sebastian expectantly.

He groaned. “I still don’t understand why you’re making me do this.”

“Because,” she rolled her eyes, “If we dance for one song now, than our moms won’t bug us to get on the dancefloor all evening. It’s a strategic move.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Let’s get this over with,” he grabbed her hand, which seemed to surprise Abigail, and lead her to the middle of the field where pairs of people were already in place.

Celia fought back a smile with a bite on the inside of her cheek, thoroughly amused.

“So, who are you dancing with?” Sam asked, still standing beside her, gulping down the rest of his drink before setting it down.

“I’m sitting this one out, actually,” she replied, managing to sound peppy enough to sound unaffected. As she looked around, very few people were still standing on the sidelines; aside from them, only Gus, Pam, Marnie, Willy, Clint, and Jodi were still idle. Even Jas and Vincent were chasing each other around the makeshift dance floor.

“Wait, no one asked you?” he asked, apparently shocked. “I was sure-,” he started, but didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Penny had walked up beside him, offering them both a shy smile. She looked adorable in her yellow eyelet dress. Celia noticed she’d let her hair down, too.

“Ready to go out there?” she asked Sam.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied with a kind smile. “Lead the way.”

Celia saw Penny blush before she turned around and started walking towards the dancefloor. Sam followed her closely, and had Celia not been carefully examining her hands to mask her disappointment, she would’ve noticed the strange look on his face when he’d glanced back at her halfway through.

She stood alone, taking careful sips of her purple cocktail as the music changed. A cheerful mix of string instruments flooded the field, and the chatter died down as dance partners joined hands. Celia noticed most were doing the same steps in time with the music, although some, like Sebastian and Abigail, were making a point of doing their own variation on it.

It was a small relief, not having to dance this dance she knew nothing about, she admitted to herself. Not wanting to dwell on the fact no one wanted to dance with her (not that she blamed them), she focused on watching the pairs swaying away. Clearly, not everyone knew the dance very well. While Haley and Alex made it look effortless, Shane and Emily seemed to struggle with synchronization. Not that it seemed to bother them, Emily’s laugh crystal clear across the clearing.

Without surprise, the married couples were up there as well, dancing like people who had learned the steps years ago and only had to remember them once a year. Celia smiled to herself as she saw Elliot guide Leah into a spin. When she returned in her original position with him, she laid a hand on his chest, standing noticeably closer to him. Celia’s heart winced, longing for even such mundane intimacy. The depth of her loneliness only truly hit her as she watched Harvey and Maru dance, his hand on her waist and her hand in the other, as well as when she saw Penny giggle at something Sam had whispered into her ear.

“Hey there, kiddo,” Gus said, walking up to settle beside her. “Shouldn’t you be up there dancing like the others?”

“I’m good,” she forced a smile. “I don’t even know the steps, so I’d rather watch.”

He eyed her with a paternal kind of concern. “Isn’t it your birthday, today?”

“How do you even know that?” she asked, frowning with disbelief.

“I remember your grandfather mentioning it every year without fault, usually as he toasted a drink into the air,” Gus told her, looking suddenly nostalgic. “He loved you very much.”

Celia felt herself get emotional. “He did, didn’t he? I really should’ve visited more.”

“Your grandfather was a content soul, always happy with what he was given and never wished for more,” Gus told her, looking her right in the eyes. “Don’t you go placing that kind of blame on yourself, Celia, I mean it.”

She shut her eyes tights, feeling tears prickle between her eyes. She wasn’t sure why she was so emotional. Perhaps it had to do with the fact she had yet to visit her grandfather’s shrine, despite it being on her very own property.

“Hey, it’s all alright, kid,” Gus said, pulling her in a warm, comforting hug. “You’re here now, he’d be so proud.”

She took a deep breath, not fighting his embrace. She realized no one had held her like that in forever. Not just a quick, ‘good to see you’ hug, but a real warm embrace from someone who cared enough to offer it.

“Thanks, Gus,” she sighed as he let her go. “I don’t know what I’d do without you here. It’s hard sometimes, but your spaghetti makes it worth it,” she joked.

“Anytime,” he laughed good-heartedly. “Make sure to enjoy yourself today, okay?”

“Yeah, alright,” she replied with a huff. “Hey, do you mind not telling anyone it’s my birthday? I don’t want to make today about me,” she asked, “not on a day that should be for everyone.”

“As you wish,” Gus nodded. Celia could tell he didn’t fully understand, but he was respectful of her intentions. That was more than enough for her.


	8. Unchained Melody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's double update time! I wanted to wrap up the flower dance at once so i waited until chapter 9 was done too to post this, but i think you'll like it ;)
> 
> someone asked me for the playlist I mentioned at the beginning, so I put it out on spotify! I'll update is as I publish chapters, all songs on it are in order of being mentioned either as a chapter title or vaguely referenced in the story. you can find it here if you're into that:https://open.spotify.com/user/slytherindragonfly/playlist/4EyXMhOSN8d7pHZid5VKFC?si=24RFCz4vSWODUmj8uIw4rg
> 
> fresh reminder that you can follow me on tumblr @stardewtales for homegrown memes and announcements of when I update my stuff on here x

The Flower Dance that year was a resounding success. The weather had been perfect throughout the day, and now that night had begun to crawl its way across the sky, people were still dancing and laughing just as happily. Dozens of lanterns and string lights cast a warm light on the flower-filled field, giving an eerie feel to the surrounding forest. 

In recent years, the Flower Dance had become a hit-or-miss festival. If one year it started to pour halfway through, the next had particularly enchanting floral arrangements. The previous year, Pam had decided she wanted to leave in the middle of the afternoon, and had blown up at Penny when she’d tried to stay behind. The whole scene had cast a weird mood on everyone who’d watched Penny trail after her mother, shoulders slumped and quietly shameful. It hadn’t helped that Shane had gotten so drunk he’d thrown up on Clint’s shoes barely an hour later.

This year, however, everyone seemed in high spirits. Pam had claimed a chair by the buffet and chatted with whomever came by to refill their plates as Penny spun to the music and played with Vincent and Jas. Shane kept a beer in his hand, but Emily had seemingly made it her mission to avoid him a repeat of the previous year and, he didn’t seem to hate the attention.

As Harvey surveyed everyone, waiting for Pierre to finish selling Leah outdoor flower decorations so they could resume their conversation, he was surprised to find the person who seemed to enjoy themselves the least was Celia. Celia, whom he hadn’t seen dance a single time so far, who had been drinking colourful cocktails one after the other and who was now just standing by herself, back to a wooden fence with a vaguely hollow look to her. He was stunned to see her there; she had been so absent from the festivities for the last few hours he’d thought she’d snuck out and left, unnoticed.

His chest tightened when he saw her like so. No one else seemed to have noticed; anytime someone approached her, her expression morphed to a cheery smile as  she exchanged a few words with them. He wondered if she’d been doing this from the first day she’d arrived in town, wondered how many of the smiles she’d given him had been genuine and how many had been pretend.

He knew it was her birthday, and had no idea what to do with that information. Clearly, she hadn’t told people; she most likely wasn’t aware he himself even knew. He’d debated getting her a gift, but had ultimately decided against it. It’s not that he didn’t want to; he just felt like there were more chances the gesture would seem out of place than thoughtful. Now, however, seeing her subtly sullen, he wished he’d gotten her just a little something. Anything to make her day even just a bit special.

Perhaps he should invite her to dance. It’s what he had wanted to do earlier, having tried to work up the courage to ask her all week, but she’d been whisked away before he had the chance, and Maru had sprung up on him with the same invitation. For two years now he’d been her partner for the opening dance, and she’d clearly assumed it would be the same this year. This, added to the seemingly fateful way Emily had taken her away just before he could ask Celia, had pushed him to nod at Maru’s offer.

It was a much safer plan anyways, one that would not entail hushed whispers and pointed looks at him. Sure, Maru and Celia were the same age, but people were used to seeing him with Maru; with Celia, not so much. Besides, he was so at a loss whenever she came near, he was convinced his inevitable fluster would be a dead giveaway for anyone watching. No, the idea of the whole town watching as they danced was simply unbearable, he couldn’t have done it, he decided.

Besides, Jodi’s words as she’d visited the clinic for Vincent’s physical still rang clear in his head.

“Doctor Harvey, you’re a good man,” she’d asserted, “What do you make of that new farmer girl, Celia? Have you two spoken much?” she’d asked, a gossipy look to her.

He’d frozen slightly at question. “Why do you ask?” he’d replied, continuing Vincent’s examination all the same.

“Just curious. I haven’t had the chance to really speak to her yet besides the usual pleasantries,” she’d replied, and he’d been foolish enough to believe those had been her true intentions.

“She seems like an agreeable person,” he’d replied, choosing his words cautiously. “From what I’ve seen so far.”

Jodi had nodded, leaving it at that as she’d slipped into her own thoughts. Then, a few days later, back for her own appointment, she’d spoken of Celia again, a conspiratorial look to her this time.

“Robin and I were talking the other day,” she’d started nonchalantly, “and you know, having boys, we were wondering if perhaps Celia will end up really making a life for herself here.”

He’d played dumb, really not wanting to have this conversation with her. He didn’t have anything against Jodi, in fact he thought she was a strong person and a good mother for all she’d had to put up with, but he didn’t like being pulled into her speculation. “I’m not sure I follow,” he’d said, avoiding her eyes.

“Well, she’s taken up a farm, it’s not far-fetched to think she might want to settle here for good,” Jodi had replied. “I doubt she’ll want to spend all that time by herself. Don’t you think she’ll wind up seeing someone at some point?”

“I can’t say that I’ve given it much thought,” he’d answered, feigning to be amused by the prospect even though the question had sprung up in his own mind more than once that week alone.

“I guess we’ll see in due time,” Jodi had conceded, understanding he wasn’t going to give her the type of answers she wanted. She’d paused, allowing a silence to settle as he’d taken her blood pressure, before reigniting the conversation. “I think she could be a good fit for Sam, don’t you? I know they’re both young still, but my husband and I were already married by that age,” she’d reflected.

“Mmh,” Harvey had simply replied, wishing hard he could be anywhere else.

“Though I suppose he’s not her only option. I doubt she would go for a type like Sebastian, but Alex is a viable option. Perhaps even Elliot, who knows,” she’d shrugged.

Harvey couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so uncomfortable. He hadn’t bothered to reply.

“Sorry to bother you with all this stuff,” she’d abdicated, laughing off his unenthusiasm. “At the end of the day, I just wish Sam would find himself a girlfriend. I just want him to be happy,” she’d sighed.

He couldn’t exactly hold that against her. Still, he was very aware that she’d automatically excluded him from her potential dating pool, and it stung. A lot more than it should have, specifically because he knew exactly why. It was the very same reason that had lead him to exclude himself from the start.

It had been foolish of him to allow himself the hope of dancing with her. So far, he’d been doing an okay job of keeping himself in check, not allowing his burgeoning interest to develop beyond that, but he wasn’t so sure that wouldn’t change if she were to put her hand on his shoulder, were to peer up at him with those wide, sparkling eyes as they stood closer than ever before.

So deeply absorbed in his own thoughts, Harvey hadn’t noticed Pierre was no longer dealing with Leah, but with Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian. He appeared to be checking up on his daughter and her friends. Sam saw him look their way, and smiled at him with a wave.

“Hey Doc’, what’s on your mind?” he asked, walking up to him nonchalantly.

“Nothing important,” Harvey waved off the question. “Enjoying yourself, I hope?”

“Yeah,” Sam smirked, “It’s been a cool-,” he continued, before trailing off as his gaze surveyed the field in front of them. “Is that Celia over there?” he frowned, squinting in her direction. “I was sure she’d left!”

This prompted Harvey to have a spontaneous, terrible idea. He knew it was either his best or worst idea of the day.

“Yes, I believe that’s her,” he confirmed. Then he lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I’m fairly sure it’s her birthday today,” he confided.

Sam was stunned. “What? And she’s all alone by herself?” he shook his head. “That’s not how birthdays should go,” he said with absolute conviction.

Next thing Harvey knew, Sam was walking away, ignoring Abigail’s shout asking him where he was going. Harvey watched intently as he strode up to Celia, casually leaning back against the fence she was already leaning on. He couldn’t hear a thing, but could imagine well enough what he said to her when he saw her follow him to the nearly empty dance floor with an amused look to her.

Perfectly timed, a new song began for them, upbeat and from bygone years. He was making a show of acting silly, yet managed to keep a perfect rhythm, and she laughed blissfully, dancing along. Harvey was glad she seemed to enjoy herself so much, stifled a pang of jealousy, and stole glances at the pair of them as they kept dancing for the next few songs.

At some point, Mayor Lewis grabbed a microphone to speak over the last half the song playing.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to say that the next one is the last dance. If you were planning to get a last one in, now’s your last chance,” he announced.

A few people headed back. Pierre left his booth to join his wife, leaving Harvey alone in his spot. Soon enough, the drums and guitars of the current song ended only to be replaced by much slower violins and a piano, the chorus of feminine voices yielding their place to a crooning male singer.

Harvey then watched Sam and Celia like someone might watch a car crash; livid, yet unable to look away. As what was inevitably a song fit for a slow dance filled the air, Celia took a step back from Sam, on her way to leave the dance floor before stopping at something he said. Then he took her hand. Pulled her back to him, close. Wrapped one arm just above her waist as she rested her free hand on his shoulder. Harvey was too far away to truly tell, but he could’ve sworn he saw her turn red as Sam whispered something against her ear, guiding them in a gentle sway.

Harvey’s mind went blank with envy and bitterness when she hesitantly rested her head on Sam’s chest and laced her hands around his neck as the music soared, both his arms now wrapped around her. He had to finally force himself to look away; he was driving himself mad. It was one thing to abstractly imagine what intimacy might look like with her; it was a vastly different one to be confronted with the sight of it directed so freely at someone else. It wasn’t much help that looking away his eyes landed on Jodi, who, as she danced with Vincent, was stealing glances at her oldest son with a maternal smile.

It was then that Harvey came to the conclusion, in hindsight, that telling Sam about Celia’s birthday was not only his worst decision that day, but probably the absolute stupidest he’d ever had.


	9. Leave A Light On

“I think you might’ve had one too many of Emily’s Amethyst Surprises,” Sam chuckled as Celia almost lost balance.

“Allegedly,” Celia quipped, regaining her composure and accidentally standing just a bit closer to him.

“Here, let’s make this easier for you,” Sam said, gently pulling her closer to him still. “Lean on me,” he nudged her softly, “I’ve got you.”

Hesitantly, Celia allowed herself to rest her head on his chest. They were standing too close now and their dancing position felt awkward. Instinctively, she let go of his hand to wrap her arms around his neck. She felt his heartbeat pick up in his chest, but was too inebriated to make the connection with his hands lowering to rest on her lower back as he adjusted too.

Celia was drunk on Emily’s cocktails and Sam’s boyish smile. For both, she hadn’t noticed until it was too late to turn back. So, for once, she let go of her inhibitions and let her anxieties melt away into the song, and it felt good.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” she murmured.

She also heard his breath catch. “Is it at least keeping time with the song?” he asked, his voice shaky on the first words.

She didn’t answer right away, listened intently. “Maybe,” she answered. “I think so. You have good rhythm,” she smiled at her own joke.

“Comes from all the music playing,” he chuckled. “You’d know if you actually came to see us practice,” he teased.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“What is it, then?” he asked, his tone a mix of curious and amused. She wished she could see his eyes, forgot she could open hers to look up at his face.

The answer escaped her before she could hold it in. “Sebastian scares me,” she whispered.

Sam laughed at the answer, making his ribcage jolt against her head.

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” she added.

“Sebastian doesn’t like anybody very much,” he replied, playful. 

“He likes you and Abigail.”

“That’s because we’ve been forcing him to for years,” Sam chuckled. “Don’t worry about him, he’s all bite and no teeth.”

Celia frowned. “I don’t think that’s a real phrase,” she pointed out.

“It is now that I’ve come up with it,” Sam replied with a smirk she couldn’t see. “But seriously, don’t mind him. I’ll spray him with water if he’s rude to you.”

It was Celia’s turn to laugh. She was thoroughly amused by the mental picture. “You drive a hard bargain. I think I might come just to see that happen.”

“Nice,” he replied.

She chuckled softly, and they fell into a comfortable silence, just enjoying the song and the swaying. Even in her impaired state of mind, Celia was shocked at how at ease she was with him. She hadn’t expected it.

Too soon, the last notes of the melody faded into silence. Everyone else around them moved, let go of the person they’d been dancing with. Celia couldn’t help but linger just a bit before slipping away from Sam’s feather light hold.

“That was fun,” he said, a flustered smile to him. 

“Yeah,” she grinned. “Thanks. For the birthday dance, I mean.” Her cheeks heated up under his gaze.

“I couldn’t just let you wallow in your corner, now could I?” he teased.

His eyes traveled to a point past her, and she turned around to see Jodi waving at him from a distance.

Sam grimaced. “I gotta bounce,” he sighed. “Promised my mom I’d carry a flower pot back home. Just… get someone to walk you home, okay? I’m worried you’ll fall in the river if you have to stumble home by yourself,” he told her, and while his tone made it sound like a joke, she knew his concern was genuine.

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes, but could not erase her smile. 

He looked like he might say something more, extended his hand for a split second before retracting it. He gave her an awkward wave goodbye, and walked away into a half jog to his family.

Left to her own devices, Celia glanced around to see who was left and stars danced before her eyes. She managed to spot Gus, packing up the buffet. 

“Guus,” she nearly slurred, holding on to the side of a table for support. “D’you mind if I walk back to town with you? Apparently if I go alone I’ll fall in the river.”

Gus whistled in reply. “Yoba, how much did you have to drink, Celia?” he asked, more amused than reproachful. “But sure. If you don’t mind waiting for me to finish packing up the food, I’ll make sure you get home in one piece.”

Celia nodded, and decided the already filled cooler beside him would make the perfect seat for her. “Take you time,” she replied, sitting down.

Moments later, it took her an extra second to realize Harvey had appeared, asking Gus if he could be of any help. Gus, instead of answering, glanced towards Celia.

“Actually,” he raised a brow, “If you could walk Celia home, that’d be much appreciated. Lassie’s had a bit too much to drink,” he shared, chuckling.

“I don’t wanna drown,” Celia interjected, oblivious to the fact Harvey had no clue why she would say that.

Harvey scratched the back of his neck, nodding. “Sure, I could do that.”

Celia grinned at him. 

“Here,” he said, extending his hand to help her up. 

Through the fog of alcohol clouding her brain, Celia vaguely remembered him helping her up just the same the day they’d met. She followed him mindlessly towards the forest, didn’t notice how quiet he was being.

She tripped just as they exited the field, the ground under her feet less leveled. The lantern he was holding illuminated the concern painted on his features.

“What?” she asked, restless at the weight of it.

“I’m wondering how we’ll get you across the bridge,” he explained, and she remembered the space between the boards that made it up. “Stay close,” he instructed, taking her hand to lead her forward.

She blushed furiously at how his hand cupped hers, a delicious shiver running down her spine. His touch reminded her just how much she’d longed for it. 

They got safely across the bridge, and he let go of her hand on the other side. Celia’s blood thrummed in her head as she trailed beside him in silence. She took up studying him out the corner of her eye. Unattentive, she tripped on a rock, and would’ve fallen to the ground face first had he not extended his arm for her to cling to.

She raised her eyes at him, sheepish. “Sorry I’m such a mess right now,” she said. She did not let go of him despite straightening up. “I swear I’m not that drunk, it’s just that the forest ground is… unpredictable.”

“It’s okay,” he responded, his eyes darting everywhere but on her. “You, uhm, you can hold onto my arm while we walk if it makes it easier.”

She smiled at him, equal parts grateful and embarrassed. Grateful that he was the one walking her home, his eyes glimmering with the reflection of the lantern, and embarrassed at how much she hoped he wouldn’t think less of her for letting go just a bit too much just this once.

They did not really talk as they made their way towards Marnie’s ranch. Celia’s eyes were now boring into the ground, so determined not to trip again she did not notice she was having trouble walking straight the whole way. She was however very aware of the way his eyes flickered to her every couple of steps, or when she held onto his arm just a bit too tight.

“This path goes to your farm, right?” he asked her once they’d made their way back onto the dirt road.

She scrunched her nose at the thought of all the weeds, rocks and fallen tree branches she had yet to clear out near the South entrance to Thornwood.

“I’ll probably manage to sprain an ankle or cut my knee open if we go through there,” she giggled, the prospect of her falling over herself somehow suddenly irresistibly funny to her.

“Right,” he nodded, letting out a soft laugh himself. “Best to avoid that, then.”

She let go of his arm once they reached the paved roads leading into town, no longer having the excuse of wild grounds to justify it. Now that she wasn’t holding on to him, however, not talking with him felt unbearable.

“It’s my birthday today,” she blurted out, the first thing to say that came to her mind.

“Really?” he replied, but kept looking ahead. “Why didn’t you say so?”

She sighed. “Didn’t want to draw all that attention. People were there to celebrate the festival, not me.”

He didn’t answer right away, this time taking the time to glance towards her. While the walk through the forest had sobered her up a bit, she had enough of a daze left not to know what to make of his facial expression.

“I see,” he finally said. “Well, happy birthday,” he softly smiled at her. 

She felt another blush creep its way across her face. She still could not get over the twinkle of his eyes behind his glasses. She found herself wondering what it would be like to take them off of his face so she could stare into his eyes freely, so she could drown in the softness they were filled with at all times.

For the rest of the walk, through town and then out towards her new home, she tried her best to keep the conversation going despite her focus fleeing her body at once whenever she brushed against him because of a clumsy step. When they passed by the clinic, she considered offering to walk the rest of the way on her own so he could go home himself, and had selfishly decided not to.

At last, they stood before the stairs leading up her porch. 

“Thanks for guiding me home,” she thanked him, her voice breathy. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, and she thought she saw him gulp.

Her brow furrowed. “Are you thirsty?” she asked, “Do you want some water before you head back?”

He seemed taken aback by the offer. “Uhm, well, perhaps…” he trailed off.

She nodded, motioning for him to follow her inside. On the top stair, she turned around, having not heard him move. “Are you coming?” she asked.

He was staring, looking up at her. She wondered if she had accidentally smeared pine sap on her face.

“Celia, I….” he started, trailing off once more.

“Yes?” she prompted him, and shifting on her feet, she wobbled and nearly tripped down the three stairs she has just climbed.

He seemed to hesitate, before looking down. “I should go home,” he finally said. “It’s late.”

“Oh,” she bit the inside of her cheek. “Okay, then. Goodnight, Harvey. Thanks again.”

The disappointment of his impending absence stung somewhere in her ribcage. The moonlight illuminated him entirely, bouncing brightly off his crisp white shirt. She suddenly wondered what the moonlight would look like bouncing off his bare chest, and she grew hot at the intrusive thought. 

“Goodnight, Celia,” he said, his smile faintly, inexplicably sad. “Take care,” he added, and turned on his heels to walk away.

When Celia climbed into bed later that night, stripped of all the artifices she’d donned for the day, she felt naked and alone. She clung to the covers, wrapping them tightly around her in a clumsy attempt to swaddle herself. Every empty inch of her bed felt ice cold to the touch as she replayed the day in a broken up reel inside her mind. She fell asleep easily, lulled to sleep intermittently by the phantom feeling of Sam’s hands grazing her lower back and Harvey’s warmth as she’d clutched his arm. That night, she dreamt of being held, and touched, and stroked, and kissed, something she would forget all about before even waking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand that's it for the flower dance! i'm super excited for all that's still in store, hold onto your cowboy boots my dudes and gals and nb pals because this ride is far from over
> 
> also maaaaassssiiiveee thanks for all the love you guys have given this story with all your beautiful, thoughtful comments. you're the fuel to the fire that keeps me writing x


	10. Heart’s Content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello y’all!! back again with an update! I’m on vacation and have plenty of time to write, so enjoy it while it lasts ;) might make the next update a double drop again, we’ll see. i think some of you might underestimate the lengths i’m willing to go to for this story to achieve what i want it to, i’m super psyched for the upcoming chapters.
> 
> as always, thank you all for reading and interacting with this story, every notification to my inbox brightens my day a bit more xx

The following morning, Harvey was up before his alarm clock got to wake him. He’d slept horribly. The dream had visited him again, this time however morphed from its usual template. While usually it begun and he was already outside as smoke drifted from the windows of his apartment, this time he was still indoors when the dream had highjacked his slumber. 

Despite the different beginning, it had been no question to him that this was still the same dream he’d been having for so many months now. He just knew. Guided by an odd intuition, he’d scoured his apartment and clinic to find where the fire started. He’d searched everywhere, again and again, and had not found it. When barks from Alex’s dog had filtered in through his open window and woken him up, Harvey still had not found the origin of the fire.

Helpless and frustrated, he’d lain in bed, waiting for his alarm to ring, knowing full well he wouldn’t fall back asleep. Instead of paying attention to the cacophony of thoughts in his head, he’d fixed his gaze on the ceiling above, studying each ridge in the lumpy plaster.

When it finally had been time to get up, he’d gone through the motions of morning as usual. Now that he was just waiting for his day to actually start, Maru’s arrival was a welcome reprieve.

“‘Morning, Doctor Harvey!” she greeted him along the chime of the doorbell.

“Ah, Maru,” he turned around to face her, “I’m really glad you’re here. I’ve had next to no sleep, I’ll need you to make sure I don’t fall asleep on the desk,” he joked.

She squinted slightly at him, the way she did when she was amused but surprised at what he said.

“Sure, whatever you need,” she chuckled. “I’m going to get changed, I’ll be right back.”

As she disappeared into the back, Harvey went back to studying the calendar. Pam was coming in for her annual check-up that day. He hoped she’d have showered this time.

 

* * *

 

There was more agitation in the front of the clinic than he’d anticipated when he walked Pam back there after her appointment. Her health was in an uncharacteristically good place for someone who was battling out the title of town drunk, and when he’d advised she slow down on the liquor like every year, she’d just glared at him like every other time before.

Chatting with Maru at the reception desk was Penny, all smiles and animated chatter. He’d rarely seen her so… lively, and he began to understand why when he saw her shut in on herself almost visibly when her mother walked into the room.

“Hey Mom, how was it?” she asked her, but was looking at Harvey like the question was actually directed at him.

“Fit as a fiddle,” Pam answered smugly. “Told you I’m a tough cookie.”

Penny winced, looked at Harvey again.

“Yes, well,” Harvey pitched in, “Some... lifestyle adjustments wouldn’t hurt, but there’s nothing to worry about in the short term.” It was his turn to search Penny’s face. Was it disappointment that he saw in the purse of her lips?

“Alright, then,” Penny bristled, “Let’s get you home, Mama,” she smiled at her mother. It would have looked staged from a mile away. “See you around, Maru. Thanks, Doctor Harvey,” she waved before they stepped out.

Harvey exchanged a loaded look with Maru.

“Poor girl,” he sighed, leaning on the counter. “Her mother sure is something.”

“Yeah,” Maru nodded. “I don’t get how she can still be so… soft. After all that.”

Harvey shrugged, powerless. It was then that he spotted the glass jar on the counter, a bow tied around the lid and a piece of paper tucked underneath.

“What’s this?” he pointed at it, puzzled.

Maru’s face soured. “It’s for you,” she told him. “Celia brought it over while you were back there.”

Harvey felt the back of his neck grow red hot. “Celia was here?”

“Yep,” Maru answered, lips pinched together. “Kinda necessary for the whole dropping something over thing.”

It was his turn to frown at her. She’d never been so curt with him, and he knew she understood she’d pushed it from the apologetic look she shot him. Wordlessly, he walked over to grab the jar and examine it. Were those pickled parsnips? He wanted to open the jar and check, but decided to unfold the piece of paper neatly creased under it first.

 

_ Harvey _

_ Thank you for last night, truly. Sorry. Hope you like these. _

 

_ Yours, _

_ Celia  _

 

The note had been scribbled hastily, her cursive rushed and narrow. He noticed she’d written it on the clinic’s notepad paper. She’d probably thought she would get to give it to him face to face. His neck grew even hotter at the sign-off.

He looked up to see Maru studying him. “Must’ve been quite some night,” she said, unreadable as usual.

The flush on his neck traveled to his entire face, piecing together the meaning behind her words from him telling her he hadn’t slept, and now this. “It’s not, erm,-“ he paused, his breath quickening, “It’s not what you think.”

“I’m not thinking anything,” she denied, fidgeting with a pen.

“She was drunk, and I walked her home from the dance so she’d get there safe,” he still explained. “Gus asked me to.”

“Oh,” she simply replied. She stopped taping the pen on the desk. “Sorry,” she sighed. “I’m on edge today, I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

Harvey could see she wanted him to ask her why. “I’ll go put this in the fridge,” he said instead, grabbing the jar.

“Sure,” her face fell.

Any other day, he would’ve asked her what was wrong. Any other day he would’ve listened intently. Now, however, the only thing he was able to think of was the single word scribbled before Celia’s signature.  _ Yours _ . Did it mean anything? Did she sign all her letters this way? Or was he meant to read something into it? And if so, what exactly?

As he climbed the stairs up to his apartment, Harvey’s mind was overwhelmed with the image of her. A single moment from yesterday, barely a minute, played on a loop in his mind.

He hadn’t expected her to offer him a glass of water, to invite him to follow her inside. He’d been stuck in place, stunned, mind swirling with the ghost feeling of her hold on his arm. He knew it was just a simple courtesy, and  _ yet _ .

He still could see it so clearly, how she’d turned around to ask him if he was coming. How the moonlight had hit the shimmer on her cheekbone and turned her hair almost translucent, striking beyond compare. How the sight had almost compelled him to reveal how catastrophically infatuated he was with her. But then, she’d stumbled. The spell had worn off as quickly as it had come, and he had remembered that standing before him was a still quite drunk girl.

He’d forced himself to go, not wanting to know what could’ve transpired if he’d followed her inside. There was a forlorn look to her, one that he recognized as a symptom of the newcomer’s loneliness.  _ Not like this _ , the thought had rang so clearly in his head.

Now, standing in front of his fridge with her gift in his hand, his resolve to let her go was thinner than ever. For the very first time, he was overcome with an inkling that she was within reach, if he could dare. He also knew for certain, however, that she wasn’t his to grab, that it would be selfish of him to entitle himself to her if all he had to offer in return was himself. So he placed the jar in the refrigerator, closed its door and went back downstairs without missing a beat.

 

* * *

The rest of spring flew away with the wind, and before Harvey knew it, summer had come. He didn’t care for summer much; it was so inevitably uneventful every year. His favourite part of summer was actually its very last day. He liked watching the moonlight jellies come and go, liked how the glow they cast felt like a healing spell trapped underwater. He also liked that they announced the arrival of fall.

On the fourth day of Summer, he’d finally seen her again, a little over a week after the Flower Dance. The jar of pickles was still sitting in his fridge, unopened. It felt like it nearly glowed there, the way he imagined Pandora’s box might have, with an invisible aura of temptation. He knew he should’ve thanked her for the gift by then, let her know somehow she had nothing to apologize for, but she hadn’t stopped by the clinic since dropping it off, and as Harvey had found out, she was very hard to locate, bouncing all over the valley everyday.

He had seen her after walking Sebastian out of his appointment, in the waiting area where she’d been sitting with Sam and Vincent. When he’d pushed the door open, she’d been laughing at something he hadn’t heard.

“What are you guys doing here?” Sebastian had frowned upon seeing them.

“We’re gonna head to the beach for the rest of the afternoon, wanted to see if you want to come with,” Sam had answered, getting up. “We asked Abby too, but she’s too deep in Journey of the Prairie King to grace us with her presence. She’s the one who told us your appointment was today, actually.”

“Pass,” Sebastian had scoffed. “Not thanks. It’s way too hot outside.”

“That’s the whole point, dude,” Sam had rolled his eyes. “There’s more wind by the ocean.”

“Suit yourselves, I’ve got work to do,” Sebastian had shrugged. “Thanks for the invite, though,” he’d reluctantly added when he’d seen Vincent’s look of disappointment.

“Figured you’d say that,” Sam had chuckled.

Harvey had watched the whole exchange unfold, had seen Celia give him a shy smile when he’d made eye contact with her. Had seen her hand grapes to Vincent from a plastic container as the boys had talked. He’d seen her smile again, differently, at the sound of Sam’s laugh. He’d noticed the lavender swimsuit tied around her neck, peeking out of her t-shirt.

“Alright, looks like it’s just the three of us, then,” Sam had looked back at Celia and his brother, still sat behind him. “Let’s get this party on the road then! Vince, you still have Jas’s birthday gift, right?”

“I got it,” Celia had said, raising what looked like a seashell wrapped in cupcake-printed paper in her hand.

They’d all left in a blur, Sebastian stepping out with them. Celia had left last, having held the door for Sam who had been carrying Vincent on his back.

“Bye,” she’d simply smiled at him before stepping out herself.

He’d waved, confused by the hastiness of it all. Days later, having not seen her again since then, he still wished he’d asked her to talk for a minute, to finally thank her instead of just standing there, a prop in his own clinic.

He saw her again the following Tuesday, embarrassingly enough. To say he hadn’t expected to see her at Pierre’s when he was walking out of aerobics class was an understatement.

“Hey Harvey!” she’d chirped, walking up to him with her hands full of seed packets. “What are you doing here? Did someone get hurt during the aerobics thing?” she’d asked.

He’d turned red at the question, something he was growing annoyed of doing whenever she was around. “Well, I, uhm-” he’d started, tripping over his words.

“Great form today Doctor Harvey!” Emily had exclaimed, passing by them. “Your energy was totally vibing right. Hi Celia!” she’d added, pausing slightly to squeeze Celia’s arm before going on her way to the door.

Celia was now looking up at him, visibly biting her cheek in a failed attempt to contain her amusement.

“Oh god,” he’d sighed, shaking his head, wiping his brow in embarrassment.

“Dance aerobics, uh?” she nagged him.

He didn’t want to meet her eyes, afraid of how much contempt he’d find there. “Yes, uhm, it’s hard to stay active, and, well, it helps with the stress from the clinic…”

She laughed, without any snark. He finally looked at her face, surprised not to see any ounce of mockery on it, just simple amusement.

“I think it’s great you’re taking the time to do this for your health,” she smiled at him, and he felt as out of breath as mid-workout.

“I didn’t… I didn’t want anybody to find out,” he mumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Least of all you.”

Her eyes grew a bit wide at this. Was she blushing, too?

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” she replied, looking down at her hands, now fidgeting with the seed packets. “Your secret’s safe with me. I owe you that much,” she chuckled softly.

He frowned, unsure what she meant. “What?”

“You know,” she gestured vaguely. “For helping me out after the Flower Dance. I was a total mess, I don’t usually let myself slip up this much. Sorry you had to deal with that.”

He was stunned she was still so contrite about the whole thing. “Oh, that? You don’t have to worry about it, you know. I, uh,” he paused, breathed, “I enjoyed walking you home, actually. More than I would’ve walking back on my own, anyways.”

“Oh,” she replied, her mouth forming the same shape. “I guess that’s good?”

He laughed at her hesitation. He liked that she seemed just as in her head as himself at all times. It made him feel less self-conscious about it. “I never got to thank you for the pickles, by the way. You didn’t have to get me a gift for walking you home, you know.”

She smiled, one corner of her mouth tugging up further than the other in an incredibly endearing way. “I wasn’t sure if you liked pickles. I hope I didn’t totally misfire.”

“I do like them,” he reassured her. “They’re my favourite, actually,” he almost got tongue-tied at the admission, willfully omitting he had yet to crack open the jar.

“Good,” she beamed. “Well, I have to get home and plant these,” she raised the seeds, “but I’m glad I ran into you. Are you going to the Luau on Thursday?”

“I am, yes. Are you?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’ll see you there, then,” she grinned, and with that she walked to the cash register.

He considered lingering in the store, wondered if he needed to replenish anything in his pantry. The temptation to stick around so he could exit the store with her and perhaps talk with her some more was quite real, but he decided against it. He’d see her plenty at the Luau, and besides, he had some paperwork waiting for him on his desk. He was good at keeping focus this time, only once getting distracted by his earlier conversation with Celia.

He liked the way her lips stretched into a smile over and over again when she talked to him, he decided, replaying it in his head. For the first time, he allowed himself to wonder what it might feel like to kiss them. To feel them flutter on his cheek, on his jaw, on his neck. For the first time, he didn’t chastise himself for just wondering.

The night before the Luau, he dreamed the dream again. Its new, altered version. Just like the previous time, he searched everywhere for the source of the fire, but unlike the last time, he noticed the packet of matches on his kitchen counter. Guided by a will other than his own, he lit one, watched the flame dance on the matchstick until it got close enough to his fingers to burn, and blew on it. He lit another one.

This time, he let the flame lick the drawn curtains of the kitchen window. Astonished, he finally realized that he was the one who needed to start the fire. He watched the curtains burn, fascinated with how the flames blackened the wallpaper underneath. Then, a distinct unease settled into the pit of his stomach as he discovered there was no window under the curtains.

He ran outside, faster than he ever had, and the pouring rain welcomed him with its wet embrace. As the flames burned down his home, he noticed for the first time that the building had no windows in this dream. Had it always been like this? The question repeated itself over and over in his mind when he woke up. He wished he could understand what it all meant.


	11. Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took a tiny while before the update my dudes, but as usual, your sweet sweet comments managed to get me to sit down and write this chapter. every time someone tells me I converted them to the loving harvey lifestyle my crops grow stronger. if I may be so bold, this one was worth the while imo, if only for how long it is. took a few teeny tiny liberties with the canon of the game, hopefully y'all don't mind!! 
> 
> I'mma plug the link to the playlist here again because this chapter was heavily inspired by its title song so go listen to it for extra insight!! https://open.spotify.com/user/slytherindragonfly/playlist/4EyXMhOSN8d7pHZid5VKFC?si=F4hebRK7SE6gkWZhTWbV8w
> 
> As usual, you can find me on tumblr @stardewtales for chapter updates and the occasional meme x

The Luau had not gone how Celia had anticipated. At all. 

Walking back home after sundown, she couldn’t help but relive the day’s events in her head. She remembered the bright, warm sun shining down on the beach and the kitsch music playing when she’d stumbled onto the festival already in full swing. Lewis had greeted her warmly, urging her to make her contribution to the soup before it was time to taste it. The Governor had politely commented on the charm of the valley, adding that he was glad Thornwood had been brought back to life.

She’d gone to Marnie, had dropped the fresh radishes she’d brought along into the stew. Right away, she’d been swept away by Sam and Abigail in a pebble skipping competition. She’d wondered how they managed to be so good at it despite the tumultuous waves of the ocean.

The afternoon had passed in a blistering daze. She’d caught up with nearly everyone, trading pleasantries effortlessly. Perhaps she was finally getting the hang of this small town way of life. She’d also let Vincent goad her into racing him into the water and had smiled at his pumping a fist into the air in victory after she’d let him win. Because she’d been spending a fair amount of time with Sam lately, and because he spent a good chunk of his time watching over Vincent now that school was over for the summer, the boy seemed to have taken a liking to her. She was glad; she’d grown quite fond of him herself. He reminded her of her own brother when they were still children, how he too was wild and playful and so sweet. She rarely ever saw him now, and sometimes she’d be hit with a wave of nostalgia while watching Vincent play.

The sun had been almost ready to set when she’d sat down with Gus and Emily to cool down, and he’d reminded her she had yet to taste the communal soup. While she’d been initially wary of the concept of a whole town dropping mismatched ingredients into a boiling pot, the Governor had seemed pleased enough with the taste, and so she’d gone over to have a taste without a second though. The taste had been odd, but not unpleasant. There had been a creamy texture to it she’d liked.

It had taken a few minutes before Gus asked her if she was okay, pointing out her whole face was getting red. She’d shrugged it off, saying it had to be a sunburn. And then the tingling had started, taking over the whole inside of her mouth. That was when she’d realized what was going on.

“Hey, do you guys know if anyone put coconut in the soup?” she’d asked them, slightly panicked.

“Yeah, I did!” Emily had exclaimed, almost triumphant. “I bring coconut milk every year, it totally gets the texture to that sweet spot of just creamy enough.”

Celia’s eyes had gone wide at this. “I’m allergic to coconut,” she’d said, feeling her tongue start to swell.

Gus had gone to get Harvey right away, while Emily had confounded herself in excuses, saying over and over how she had no clue as Celia had started to sweat slightly. She knew her allergy was far from deadly, but it didn’t make it any less unpleasant.

Harvey had been blissfully calm compared to Emily’s fretting. He’d had some anti-allergy pills on him, had joked about how he brought them to every festival where food was served because someone was bound to have an allergic reaction at some point.

However, just because he hadn’t made a big deal out of it didn’t mean no one else had. Jodi had gone fully motherly on her, asking her if she needed something to drink, somewhere to lay down. The mayor had slightly freaked out, so very worried the incident would reflect badly on the Governor. Her head had felt dizzy, but in hindsight she wasn’t sure if it had been because of the allergy or the smothering.

Even as she’d been leaving the beach with Harvey to go to the clinic, Sam had run up to her, worry painted over every inch of his face.

“Hey, my mom filled me in on what happened,” he’d said, putting his hand on her arm, “Are you good?”

Her mouth was still slightly swollen and she could feel the heat radiating off her face, but she’d done her best to ease his concern with a smile.

“I’m alright,” she’d brushed it off. “Just going to the clinic to get the swelling to die down as fast as possible, don’t worry about it.”

Sam usually had a face that was refreshingly easy to read, but in that moment she couldn’t have said what had been on his mind as he’d just stared at her, squinting slightly and shifting on his feet.

“D’you think you’ll come back?” he’d finally asked, something hesitant about his tone. “There’s still the fireworks you haven’t seen,” and with that last sentence his boyish grin had started coming back.

“I guess I’ll see how I feel once the reaction has passed,” she’d shrugged. “Worst case scenario, I’ll watch the fireworks from my porch,” she’d added jokingly, but instead of laughing along he’d only seemed deflated.

“Yeah, I guess you can always do that. Well anyways, hope you get better fast,” he’d replied, and with a wave he’d strolled back down to the makeshift campfire Shane had fixed up.

She’d turned around to see Harvey had waited for her a little ways down, and despite her situation in the moment, all she’d been able to think was that she liked this version of him, dressed down for the seaside yet still somehow polished. His hair had been more tousled than usual, too, thanks to the wind. He had seemed lost in thought, looking out to the ocean.

“Alright,” she’d smiled as she’d walked up to him, “Let’s go before anyone else gets overly concerned for my well-being.”

He’d chuckled, fixing his glasses. “Good idea.”

A sense of peace had filled Celia as they’d walked back to town, catching up on what they’d been up to since they’d last seen each other. With everyone still down at the beach, the town had been eerily quiet, and it had felt like they could hear the birds chirping all the way from the forest. The sun had started to set, lazily making its way down towards the horizon.

At the clinic, Harvey had given her another pill to take.

“Is that all?” she’d asked him after chasing it down with the glass of water he’d offered her.

“Well,” he’d cleared his throat, “You’re free to leave of course, but it’d be wise to stay at the clinic for a bit longer, just to make sure that everything does fade as it should.”

“Makes sense,” she’d nodded. “How long, do you think?”

He’d pondered for a second, looking like he was calculating something in his mind. “Well, considering the time that’s passed since the first pill you took, I’d say about twenty minutes would be plenty. Just to be on the safe side,” he’d explained.

“Okay, yeah, sure,” she’d replied, looking around the sterile white walls of the clinic. “Do I have to wait in here though? It’s just that it’s still  _ so _ nice outside…” she’d said, pleading her case.

Something in Harvey’s composure had flickered. She felt like there were two sides to him; the professional, reassuring doctor and then the other side of him, the side that tripped over his words every now and then and let her cling onto his arm as he walked her home. The divide across the two was blurry most times, but in that moment it had been almost perceptible.

“I’m, uh, I need to head up to my apartment for a second, but you’re more than welcome to wait outside if that’s what you want. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

An idea had popped into her mind. “Can I come with you?” she’d asked.

It had taken him a second to answer. “What?”

“I just, well, I’m just curious to see what it looks like,” she’d explained, feeling a bit silly. “Your apartment, that is. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

He’d flickered again. “Um, sure. I don’t see why not,” he’d replied, but despite the fact that he’d just agreed, he still seemed very hesitant. “I have to warn you, though, it’s not much to look at,” he’d added, rubbing the back of his neck as he’d done so.

She’d chuckled at that. “My cabin barely has running water, you don’t have to worry about any judgement from me.”

He’d laughed, too. Moments later she’d followed him up the stairs, oddly thrilled by the prospect of discovering where he lived. She hadn’t understood what he’d been so nervous about. Sure, the apartment was small, and a bit sparse, but there was something very… him about many things she noticed. It wasn’t an overwhelming feeling that this was a home, his home, but more about the way the books were neatly organized on their shelves, the look of the vintage radio on his bedside table, the perfectly made bed.

He’d seemed about to say something about the place, but she’d cut him short. “I like it,” she’d smiled at him earnestly.

“Oh,” he’d said, and she was sure he’d blushed slightly, “Good. That’s good.”

“Woah, what’s this?” she’d asked, having noticed the elaborate radio setup in the corner.

“That’s... nothing,” he’d brushed it off a bit too quickly.

She’d spun around to look at him, incredulous. “Clearly it’s not nothing. Does it work?”

He’d walked over to her, a bit apprehensive. “It’s for listening in to the airwaves,” he’d explained reluctantly.

She’d frowned slightly, until she’d pieced it together from the posters of planes above the station. “Like for planes?”

“Yes, like for planes,” he’d replied with a nervous chuckle.

“That’s awesome,” she’d grinned at him, hoping he’d realize he had nothing to be nervous about. “Can I try it?”

He’d been visibly taken aback by her reaction. “If you can..? Yes, of course! You can listen in while I take care of some things quickly.”

He’d set her up, flicking switches and smiling amusedly as she’d sat down to put on the big headphones. He’d walked away, heading for where she’d seen the kitchen was, and she’d let him attend to his business as she listened intently. All she’d heard had been static white noise, but it hadn’t been surprising considering he’d told her how the airways above the valley weren’t exactly busy.

She’d let her eyes wander over the room as she’d kept on listening, noticing a door that seemed to lead to a balcony. He’d came back shortly, two glasses in hand, and she’d put down the headphones.

“Here,” he’d handed one to her. “I asked if you wanted one but you couldn’t hear so I just brought one for you. It’s just lemonade, better to stay hydrated after a day under the sun like today.”

“Thank you,” she’d said, grabbing the glass to take a sip.

“Did you hear anything?” he’d asked, pointing to the radio station.

She’d shaken her head. “Maybe next time,” she’d said lightly, before realizing it was bold of her to assume there would be a next time if this was just the first time she’d been there.

He hadn’t seemed to mind. “Sure, maybe next time,” he’d echoed with a small chuckle.

“Hey, is that a balcony you’ve got there by any chance?” she’d then asked, getting up to examine the door she’d spotted minutes earlier.

“Keenly observed,” he’d said, and it had been he first time she’d heard him sound… playful, yes, that’s what it had been. She remembered having looked back at him, both surprised and delighted.

Without asking, she’d opened the door and stepped out onto the small balcony. She’d understood why she’d never seen it from outside; it was practically surrounded by trees, the cliff discernible between them. At that point, the sky had started turning a soft pink hue, making everything outdoors seem warmer. The slight breeze had carried the scent of the wild sweet peas that grew on the edge of the cliff, the finishing touch to an unexpectedly enchanting setup.

“Harvey, this is so nice,” she’d told him, beckoning him to join her. “Why don’t you keep at least a chair out here?”

The balcony clashed with its surroundings, basically a slab of bare concrete with dusty railings.

He’d raised his brows at the question. “Actually… I’ve never thought about it. I don’t come out here often, as you can probably guess.”

“Why not? This could be such a cozy spot! See, if you’d put a chair over here, a potted plant in that corner and one of those outdoor rugs, it’d be a super easy way to spruce it up,” she’d told him, picturing it so clearly in her head.

He’d looked at her, amused. “See, I just don’t think of these kinds of things. If I’m being honest, when I moved in here I thought it was just going temporary, so I never really put much effort in the details.”

“How come?” she’d asked, puzzled. “You didn’t think you’d stay in the valley?”

By then, they’d both been standing on the balcony, which was just big enough for two people, maybe three if they didn’t mind being squeezed together. She’d grabbed onto the bannister with both hands, supporting herself as she’d let herself lean forward slightly. Harvey, on the other hand, had stood closer to the wall.

“No, I did, I just…’” he’d sighed, shaking his head. “Nevermind. It’s silly.”

She hadn’t bothered to reply, had simply shot him a questioning look.

“I’d told myself I’d move out soon enough. Into a real house,” he’d explained, his hand gesturing vaguely. “When, uh, when I’d need one to… well, when I’d need more room than for just myself. For a family. It sounds presumptuous, now that I’m saying it out loud.”

He’d said it all looking straight ahead, avoiding her gaze.

“It’s not presumptuous to want a family,” she’d said, softly. “To want to find that person you can build something with, something actually meaningful. Most people do,” she’d added, wistful, her own eyes lost in the foliage of the trees.

A silence settled before he broke it. “Do you?” he’d asked her.

She’d bitten her lip. “Yes. And I thought… I was so sure I’d found it,” she’d shaken her head, laughing bitterly at the thought of her own past foolishness. “Just because something feels meant to be doesn’t mean it actually is, is what I’ve learned.”

She hadn’t wanted to delve into it more, and had been very grateful when Harvey hadn’t pressed her about it. Instead, she’d changed the subject.

“So planes, uh?” she’d asked him, turning her head to look at him with a playful smile. “What’s the story there?”

He’d chuckled, the harsh golden light of sunset shining down on him, revealing lighter highlights in his curls. She remembered it precisely, because she’d been so struck with how something overwhelming had rushed into her chest at the sight. It was when she’d realized that there was something distinctively stable and mature, but also warm and soft about him. She’d felt like a moth drawn to a flame.

“I used to want to be a pilot,” he’d started, the memory drawing the corners of his mouth upwards. “It sort of put a damper on things when I learned I would’ve needed perfect eyesight and not be so afraid of heights,” he’d huffed, taking his glasses off to clean them quickly with the fabric of his polo.

Celia had watched him do so very intently. She vaguely remembered having wanted to look into his eyes with his glasses off at some point.

“Do you need them for up close or far away?” she’d asked, pointing at them.

“For things at a distance,” he’d nodded, and hadn’t actually put them back on right away. He had however noticed how she’d stared at him. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“No,” she’d laughed. “No, you’re good. I’ve just never seen you without your glasses before.”

There had been a hint of a sunburn on his nose before, but another type of flush had spread to his cheeks. It had made a thought bloom into her head, a nagging, insistent one. Could it be that he felt something, anything for her? She hadn’t understood how bad she’d wanted him to until she’d actually formulated the question.

The way he’d been looking at her then certainly hadn’t helped. His eyes had been filled with something she’d never seen there before, something that had been battling out the usual softness. She’d thought it was longing, had convinced herself of it. In that moment, whether he’d been aware of it or not, he’d looked at her the way she’d always yearned to be looked at. It had overwhelmed her, reminded her of every time he’d held her hands as he’d tried to heal them.

“I think the signs of the allergic reaction are all gone now,” he’d pointed out, taking a step away from the wall and closer to the railing, as if to get a better look at her. A step closer to her.

“That’s good,” she’d breathed. “I guess that means I can go now.”

“I guess it does,” he’d nodded, the playful tone back. However, instead of moving towards the door, he’d put his elbows on the bannister, bending down to lean against it. “You know, I think you were right. It really is nice out here, maybe I could start reading here.”

His eyes had been lost into the foliage once more, and she’d let her own do the same. The sky had been aflame with vivid pinks and oranges when, moments of silence later, she’d turned around to see he’d already been looking at her. He still hadn’t put his glasses back on, she’d noticed. Tentatively, she’d let herself search his eyes, bare right before her own. He’d been looking at her like just before, and whatever had been going on in her chest sank deeper into her.

It had been impulsive, how she’d suddenly brought her hand to his cheek, guiding his lips to hers. Thinking about it as she was headed back home, she wanted to blame it on everything and anything; the sunset, the sweet peas, his eyes, her loneliness. It had been impulsive, and deliciously sweet, like the lemonade she’d tasted on his lips. He’d been frozen in shock for a split second before he’d reacted almost hungrily, his hands landing on her back and cradling the back of her head, pulling her into him as he’d leaned down, kissing her back. She’d felt about ready to burst.

And then he’d pulled away, stepping back so suddenly. He’d ran a hand through his hair, a panicked look to him as he’d said it.

“I shouldn’t have done that. Celia, I’m sorry, I, I can’t do this, I…”

She hadn’t known how to react, stunned and breathless as she’d just stared at him.

“Oh, I really shouldn’t have done that,” he’d repeated, muttering to himself. “Celia, I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you want. I can’t… I can’t give you what you need.”

A shadow had descended upon the balcony, the sun having set below the mountains. Celia had shuddered, suddenly cold all over.

“I’m sorry, I.... I thought....,” she’d stuttered, still dumbfounded, “Or actually, I didn’t think. I’m, uh, I’m gonna go now.”

And with that she’d bolted, rushing back into the apartment and down the stairs out of the clinic.

She was replaying the scene over and over in her head as she walked hurriedly out of town, trying to figure out where she’d gotten it wrong. Clearly, she’d gotten it all wrong. Again. With every step she took, the incomprehension gave way to dread. It filled her from the stomach up, almost nauseating.

Once she got back on the farm, she hesitated. She didn’t feel like going inside; as it turned out, in the summer the cabin became fully suffocating from the heat. Instead, she plopped down on the stairs to her porch, letting her head fall into her hands.

“Why do I do this to myself,” she muttered as she felt tears well in her eyes.

She willed herself not to cry. She knew exactly which old wounds this was opening up, and she’d promised herself she was done crying over them. It took her a few minutes to regulate her breathing, which had gotten short and staggered. She just stayed sat there, grim as she listened to the crickets sing their last songs before nightfall. Her mind was both blank and absolutely tumultuous.

Most noticeably, however, a hollowness had carved its way in how she was feeling. No matter how many times she told herself she’d read everything wrong, she still couldn’t shake how it had felt to kiss him and to be kissed back. How it had felt when  _ he _ ’d kissed her back. Setting the confusion of why he had kissed her back only to push her away seconds later aside, there was a hollowness inside of her that was troubling. A hollowness where the way she felt about Harvey had bloomed, hidden away from her own sight until it was too late, until the roots had grown too strong. Now that it had been plucked, the broken roots ached, severed against their will and rendered purposeless.

She was so engulfed in her own wallowing that she didn’t hear the footsteps right away, coming from the East point of entry into Thornwood. When she did, she looked up, confused. There was very little light left, barely enough to make out who was coming her way. It might’ve taken her more time to recognize him had she not been spending so much time with him lately.

“Sam?” she asked, loud enough for him to hear. “What are you doing here?”

He jogged the rest of the way, until he was right by the porch.

“You said you’d watch the fireworks from your porch if you didn’t come back to the beach,” he answered, grinning as always, but his smile faltered when he got close enough to see her face. “Are you okay?”

“Rough night,” she huffed.

“Yeah, so it seems. Wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“Not especially.”

“Okay. Cool,” he said, nodding. “Well, I was gonna ask if you’d mind if I watched the fireworks with you, but if you’d rather be alone I get it.”

She softened a bit at how he managed to be so carelessly considerate. “The beach’s not your scene anymore?” she asked with a hint of a teasing smile.

“Yeah, too crowded,” he laughed. “This is much more exclusive, it’s a better look for me. Gotta keep the brand clean if I’mma be a rockstar, you know how it is.”

She laughed. Sam always made her laugh, and was perhaps the only person capable of lifting her spirits that night.

“Well then, take a seat in the VIP spot,” she joked, motioning to the stairs she was sat on.

“Hell yeah, now that’s what I’m talking about,” he said as he sat beside her. “Maybe I should consider adding you to my entourage,” he faked a pensive expression.

She let out a mock gasp. “Are you saying I’m not already a member of the entourage?”

Celia let herself slip into a comfortable banter with him as they waited for it to get dark enough for the fireworks. When the fireflies started coming out, Sam made a point of assigning every one of them a name, every one more ridiculous than the other. They played a game where Celia pointed to a few stars from those that could already be seen and he had to guess if they formed a real constellation or not.

When the fireworks started, however, they fell silent. There was something childlike in Sam’s face as he looked at them, smiled at the more colourful ones. At some point about halfway through, she shuddered, a chill having settled in the night air.

“C’mere,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him.

She let herself rest her head on his shoulder as they watched the rest of the fireworks in a comfortable silence, save for the explosions. Before meeting him, Celia had never had a friend who was so liberal with their touch. Sam was a whole new experience, always resting a hand on his friends, hugging to say hi, tapping an arm in either encouragement or mockery. She’d seen him be the same way with Sebastian and Abigail, with Vincent too. It was unfamiliar for her, but never felt unnatural, and that night, she felt particularly thankful for his touchy ways. She knew every second he held her was one she wasn’t going to fall into that dark place in her mind.

As long as he held onto her, she thought, she could focus on the fireworks.


	12. Longing to Belong

Nearly a week after the Luau, Celia was standing outside the Joja Mart, the hard sun only just then starting to soften as it transitioned into the evening. She was waiting, holding a big inconvenient cardboard box and smiling awkwardly at the people trickling out of the store now that it had just closed. She felt wildly out of place, hoping Sam would come out already.

When he did step out, spotting her immediately, she knew it had been worth it from the grin spreading on his face.

“Happy birthday,” she called out to him, smiling affectionately.

“What are you even doing here?” he replied, walking up to her and running a hand through his hair. He then zeroed in on the box in her hands. “Hold on, is that..?”

“Yes,” she beamed at him. “Pizza. If I were you I’d grab a slice while it’s still warm.”

“You are the  _ best _ ,” he told her, reaching into the box she was now holding open for him. “This birthday rules.”

She chuckled as he wolfed down one slice, then another.

“Here, have a bite,” he said, offering up a slice to her since her hands were busy.

They both laughed as she clumsily bit into the slice, biting off too much toppings.

“Sorry I ruined your slice,” she giggled after swallowing.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he brushed it off, biting into the slice in turn. “You’re the one who brought it out here, it’s all yours to ruin. Hey, crazy idea, but what if we sat down to eat this?”

She faked taking a moment to think about it, lip jutting out. “It’s a little out of the box, but I’ll try it out for your sake,” she winked.

She didn’t notice, looking around to find a picnic table, but the bridge of his nose reddened a shade or two as he rolled his eyes at her.

“Here, let me show you a spot I go to on break sometimes, it’ll work fine,” he offered.

She followed him a little ways down the edge of the cliffs, where an overgrown patch of land was encased within worn fences. In one spot, the top board of the fence had fallen, leaving enough space to step over comfortably. Only a few steps into this oddity of a place, she already felt like she was surrounded by vegetation, shrubs and trees obscuring the view to the town around them.

“What even is this place?” she asked, sitting down beside Sam who had settled at the bottom of an old oak tree.

He leaned against the trunk, looking relaxed as he shed his workday. “Seb told me it used to be a park, but then when Joja moved in, this was on their land, so the town park was relocated up North of the town square. Apparently Morris or whoever was in charge back then didn’t want to bother maintaining it, so they just fenced it off and called it a day.”

She studied her surroundings, considering how it fit into what he’d just told her. “And you come here often?”

He shrugged, opening the pizza box back up and grabbing a slice. “Sometimes all the neon and the buzz of the freezers are just too much. It’s... nice, yeah, to have a place out here to balance it out, even if it’s just for fifteen minutes.”

“Who else knows about this place? It’s not really hidden, but I’ve never heard anyone really mention it,” she wondered aloud as he chewed on his slice.

“Well,” he swallowed, “I guess Clint must know about it, since his place is right by it over there,” he pointed south. “Maybe Shane, but I don’t really see him going outside often for his breaks.”

She raised a brow at him. “Abby and Sebastian don’t know about it?”

He coughed, having seemingly swallowed wrong. “I, uh,” he coughed some more, “I guess not. I’ve never shown this place to anyone before.”

“Oh,” she replied, it sinking in. “Well in that case, I’m honoured,” she smiled at him.

“Yeah, don’t flatter yourself,” he smirked. “If anyone else bothered to show up for me with a whole pizza after work I’d show them too.”

She rolled her eyes at him, playful, before finally grabbing a slice herself. “Anyways, I get why you like it. It’s nice… peaceful.”

“Yeah,” he simply replied with a crooked smile. “Real nice. Don’t you go telling everyone about it,” he laughed.

“Well if you wanted me to keep quiet, maybe you should’ve brought along some non-disclosure forms,” she teased back.

“Shut up,” he chuckled.

There was a warmth to his gaze as he peered down at her, sat side by side under this tree as they ate. Not that his eyes were ever cold, of course not. This was just more… noticeable, somehow.

They stayed like this, hidden away, for a while, unaware that the sun was setting well past the treeline. When Sam glanced down at his watch, a big colorful toy-like thing he’d gotten on the cheap from Joja, he grimaced.

“Shit, I better be on my way home. I promised my mom I’d babysit Vincent tonight, and Penny will only look after him for so long.”

Celia nodded, already sitting up. “Good call.” She looked down at him only to find he hadn’t budged an inch.

“I don’t wanna get up,” he groaned. “I hate too much pizza, you’ll have to roll me to my house.”

She shook her head, biting down an amused grin as she held out her hand to him. His eyes were filled with mischief and that softness she couldn't place as she held him up. He held onto her hand a few seconds too long, and her heartbeat inexplicably sped up.

They kept on chatting easily, flinging quips at each other throughout, as they walked to his house. There was an unspoken agreement she’d walk him there. She didn’t mind at all; the setting sun was still warm on her skin, while the buzzing of the bees was starting to die down.

When they reached his door, he seemed unsure as he looked at her.

“What’s up?” she frowned.

“I just…” he started, searching for his words pensively, “If you want to come in for a bit, you’re more than welcome. Vincent would probably be way happy to see you, and, well…,” he trailed off, eyes getting caught in the river behind her.

She raised a brow, prompting him to keep going.

“It’s my birthday and I worked all day only to come home to having to babysit Vince,” he half-sighs, though he doesn’t look sad by any means. “You’ve kinda been the best part of today. I guess I wouldn’t hate it if you stayed for a bit.”

She smiled softly at him, before pulling him into a hug, which seemed to startle him. He didn’t seem to know quite what to do with his hands before he set them down on her back tentatively.

“Of course I’ll stay,” she told him quietly before pulling away. “For Vincent,” she winked at him, and he laughed good-heartedly, his cheeks a healthy pink.

“Sweet,” he said, before opening the door and stepping in.

The evening unfurled both quickly and lazily. She offered to help Vincent with what little he had to do as homework while Sam reheated leftover lasagna for him. Just like every time she hung out with the two boys, she was often struck by how much Vincent reminded her of her brother with his giddy laughter and unruly playfulness. It made her wonder how long it had been since she’d spoken to him last, not through the phone or letters, but face-to-face.

She ended up staying late, much later than she’d planned. Sam allowed Vincent to stay up late if he swore he wouldn’t tell their mother. He let him play with his animal figurines in the bath for as long as he wished, coming out as wrinkly as a raisin, which he seemed to find very amusing himself. In the meantime, Celia had watched reruns on the TV with Sam, commenting on how terrible the shows were on weeknight evenings.

Being tired, Vincent had been fairly easy to put to bed. Celia had given him a hug and a kiss on the top of his head before Sam had gone into his bedroom with him to tuck him in, and she’d been left alone in the living room. Looking at the time, she stifled a yawn. It wasn’t  _ too _ late, but she’d had an exhausting day of farming and fishing before meeting with Sam. Perhaps it was time for her to get home.

Some part of her didn’t want to leave, though. The cabin was not only decrepit but strikingly humid this time of year, a far cry from the easy homeliness of Sam’s house. It was also lonely. Sometimes, lying in bed at night, hearing the walls creak under the blowing wind and the coyotes howl from the other side of the mountain, she forgot the rest of the valley existed. On those nights she felt stranded as the Moon.

She was lost in thought when Sam stepped out of his brother’s room, careful to be as quiet as possible. This time, she wasn’t able to stifle the yawn that rose up in her, wincing apologetically at Sam afterwards.

“Someone’s tired,” his lip quirked up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shook her head, before yawning again.

He laughed.

“Guess I should probably head home,” she conceded, stretching the fatigue away. “I do have a bit of walking to do before I can crash into my bed.”

He made a face, eyes squinting as his lips pressed before brightening up. “You know,” he said, “You could always stay the night here, if you’re too tired to make your way back. I’d offer to walk you, but I don’t want to leave Vincent alone in case he wakes up.”

She hesitated. The offer was quite appealing, but she didn’t want to impose. “It’s fine,” she brushed it off without much conviction.

He rolled his eyes at her. “You know, you don’t need to think you’ll drop dead of exhaustion walking home to stay. I’d be glad even if you felt like running a marathon.”

She felt her cheeks heat up. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Positive,” he grinned. “Do you want to shower?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” she grimaced, following him into his bedroom. “You can go first if you want, though.”

“I can wait,” he shrugged. “Ladies first, and all that,” he winked at her as he started to ruffle through his drawers. “You need something to sleep in?

“I mean, if there’s anything I could borrow, yeah, but I can-”

“Just pick out whatever you want in here,” he cut her off with a knowing smile. “No need to fret so much, ‘Lia.”

Her stomach churned at the nickname. He didn’t use it often, only when he was trying to comfort her or put her at ease, and she had yet to get used to it. Other times, when he was mocking or teasing, he liked to call her Cecelia, even though she’d told him a hundred times already her full name was just Celia. Because of the joke, however, sometimes Vincent ended up calling her Cece, much to his brother’s delight. All names she’d never worn before; her family had never been big on nicknames.

She grabbed an oversized band tank top she’d never seen him wear and a pair of sweatpants she wasn’t sure would even hold up on her and headed for the bathroom as he fiddled with his guitar, plucking its strings absent-mindedly.

“Don’t use up all the hot water!” he called out after her, to which she responded by sticking her tongue out at him.

 

* * *

 

She was sat at his computer as she waited for Sam to come back from the shower. She’d asked if she could borrow it, having not used one since she’d moved to the Valley. It was proving useful in forgetting about the way he’d looked at her when he’d seen her walk in the room with his clothes on, before making a point to look anywhere but at her.

It hadn’t taken long for her to get tempted into looking up what her city friends were up to on their social medias. She’d never really been active on them, so she didn’t exactly miss it here, but curiosity was getting the best of her.

She hadn’t meant to look for him, honestly. Her ex. Well,  _ ex-fiancée _ , to tell the full truth. She’d just stumbled onto a video on a friend’s profile, dated back to the New Year’s. She didn’t understand what she was looking at until it was too late. The video showed what was going on around the room as the countdown was being chanted, and a whole bunch of people kissing by its end. Him included. Kissing the girl he’d always told her not to worry about while someone off-screen shouted ‘finally!’.

Dread filled her from the pit of her stomach to the back of her throat. She didn’t have a right to be mad at the video; it had been taken almost a year after things had ended between him and her. It just… sucked.

She was well over him by now, or so she liked to tell herself. So, while it stinged, that wasn’t what hurt most. It was the pang of visceral loneliness that came with it. That came with the memory of her birthday the previous year, with the realization that the only person she’d kissed since then had been Harvey only to be pushed away promptly. She shook her head at the thought, refusing to dive into it. It all just  _ sucked _ .

Along with the loneliness came a spur of gratefulness for Sam. These days, he was the only person with whom she felt like she belonged somewhere. They’d grown so close so fast, it was dizzying.

Sighing, she powered down the computer and stood up to head to his bookshelf. She wondered what kind of books Sam owned, and started browsing. Musician biographies, a bit of dog-eared sci-fi tomes mostly within the same series, Solarion Chronicles handbooks… and a stack of worn notebooks and journals lined the shelves. She reached for one but stopped herself, shaking her head.

“You can check ‘em out, I don’t mind.”

Sam’s voice startled her, and he laughed at how she jumped. She hadn’t heard him coming back. The first thing she noticed was the way his disheveled wet hair fell around his face, wet spots growing around the collar of his baseball shirt. He walked up to the bookcase and grabbed a journal to hand it to her. Under his gaze, she clumsily flipped it open, trying not to look too eager. The pages were lined with lyrics and compositions scribbled in a rushed script that was unmistakably his. Sometimes, mindless doodles showed up in the margins. As she turned the pages, she came across a wide array of lyrics, some clumsy and obvious, some funny in an endearingly witty way, and some surprisingly heartfelt. As she approached the last few pages, he grabbed the journal back from her without a warning.

“Well, wouldn’t want to spoil the newer stuff for you, right?” he said nervously, putting the journal back in place.

She wondered what it was he didn’t want her to see in there, especially since she’d seen the band rehearse a few times already by then.

“So, uh, I guess you’ll want to sleep on the sofa, right?” he asked her, hair falling in his face. “I’ve got extra blankets and pillows we can use to make it real nice.”

She bit her lip, silently amused by how unruly his hair was when it got wet. “Sounds great.”

He squinted at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Your hair is all over the place,” she chuckled.

He ran a hand through his hair self-consciously, but he couldn’t help a quiet laugh himself. “When isn’t it?”

While no more strands fell on his face, he hadn’t made it much better. “Hang on,” she told him quietly, reaching out to put his hair in place with both hands as she stood on her toes.

She fussed over it, intent on making sense out of it. She didn’t notice how wide his eyes had gone or how red his face was growing as her fingertips dragged against his scalp, as they combed the wet strands.

“Lia,” he breathed, beckoning her to look him in the eyes.

Whatever he’d meant to say next caught in his throat when their eyes met. She froze into place, fingers still tangled in his hair as he peered down at her, eyes faintly lidded. She felt like cursing when her heart started to race.

“Yeah?” she whispered, having not meant for the word to come out so quietly. She let her fingers fall down the sides of his head, now resting against his neck where his hair ended.

He shivered, then swallowed. Her cheeks were burning up. Why weren’t they moving apart?

A timid knock on the still open door startled them apart. Vincent was standing in the doorway, eyes drowsy and clutching a dinosaur plushie.

“Hey, bud,” Sam went to crouch beside him, avoiding Celia’s eyes at all cost. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Vincent blinked, eyes going from his brother to Celia standing behind. “Cece’s still here?”

“Um, yeah,” Sam said through a cough. “She’s staying over for the night.”

“Like a sleepover,” Celia pitched in.

Vincent nodded, too tired to be truly confused. He turned his focus back to Sam. “There’s weird noises in my room... I can’t sleep,” he almost whined.

“You know it’s just the water heating system, Vince, right?” Sam ruffled his hair lightly. “You’ve got nothing to be scared of.”

There was a silent plea in the little boy’s eyes, prompting Sam to sigh patiently. “Why don’t I go check it out with you, uh?”

Vincent simply nodded, visibly grateful. He grabbed his brother’s hand, following him out.

“Night night, Celia,” he said over his shoulder.

“Sweet dreams, Vincent,” she answered.

After they’d both left the room, she let herself fall down on Sam’s bed, sitting halfway cross-legged, one leg dangling off the side. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to make sense or ignore what had been happening before Vincent had walked in on them. Trapped in her thoughts, she stared out the window, contemplating the warm glow of the streetlights on the cobblestones.

Sam cleared his throat as he came back into the room, shutting the door quietly. It took her a moment to meet his eyes.

“Your bed is really comfy,” she blurted with a nervous chuckle, not knowing how to fill the awkward silence.

He smirked at her. “Yeah?”

“Might just steal it from you and have you sleep on the couch,” she teased, falling back easily into their usual banter. She made a show of scooting up lying down on top of the covers, placing her hands under her head like a beach tourist on a postcard.

“Mmh tough luck, it’s still my birthday so I get to keep the bed,” he told her, amused. “Come on, help me get the couch ready.”

She propped herself up on her elbows, but didn’t move any further, sending him a playfully defiant stare. “And what if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll feel my wrath, Cecelia,” he scoffed, walking up to the bed.

She stifled a laugh. “Try me, Samuel.”

He paused. “Samson,” he said, plopping down easily on the edge of the bed.

She frowned. “What?”

“My full name. It’s Samson, not Samuel.”

Her brows shot up. “Since when?”

“I dunno, ask my birth certificate,” he teased.

“You’re not fucking with me.”

“Scout’s honor,” he held his hand up in his pledge.

She shoved him. “You were never a scout.”

“Maybe I’m just full of surprises,” he huffed.

His gaze turned intent as he said the words. Whatever she’d meant to reply, she forgot all about it. She swallowed, licking her lips unconsciously. She caught him stare.

“Celia?” he asked, eyes going back to hers.

She replied, as casually as she could muster. “Yeah?”

“Do you… do you think of me as just a friend?”

The question caught her by surprise. Then again, she supposed it shouldn’t have. Her mouth dried up nonetheless. She just kept on staring at him, powerless.

“Sometimes,” she managed to reply, somehow, a deep blush dusting her cheeks.

His eyes went wide at her response. At its implications, blurry as they might have been.

“What about right now?” he asked. His voice had been shaky on the last words.

She didn’t know what to reply. She was truly confused. She thought of him as her best friend lately, but would be lying if she said she hadn’t picked up on how her heart always beat faster around him. “I… I’m not sure.”

Resolution set in his eyes, though she couldn’t have guessed why. He swung his knees onto the bed, flinging an arm across her, and before she knew what was going on he was hovering over her. Her breath grew incredibly shallow.

He didn’t say anything before leaning down to press his lips onto hers, slow and careful. Her eyes fluttered shut to the sound of his ragged breath when he pulled away only to double down. He managed to draw the faintest keening whimper out of her. She felt her head spin with something akin to vertigo.

He pulled away in the slightest; she could still feel his breath on her mouth. “How about now?” he whispered.

Against any type of judgement she might’ve had left, she tipped her chin up to meet his lips again. She wouldn’t have expected them to be so soft against her own. She could taste the commercial, medicated formula of his lip balm on him. The scent of his shampoo filled the air around her head, until everything she could smell, taste, touch and hear was Sam.

She raised a tentative hand to his neck, her fingers grazing the shorter hair on his nape as she held onto him. The sound of him groaning at that made her insides flip. He pulled away, reluctantly, to regain some breath.

“I knew there was something special between us,” he said, trying not to pant. There was an adorable blush to him, one that melted her heart.

Sam  _ wanted _ her. She was drunk on the fact of it. She convinced herself she needed him, when in fact she simply needed him to want her. As she kissed him, she kissed her loneliness goodbye. It didn’t come to her to mind that turning their friendship into something more was an irreversible type of change. No, instead, she just let her hands start to roam, clinging everywhere for purchase like a woman holding on for dear life.

Sam didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy to announce that Celia is back on her bullshit, folks. Sorry for the lil' hiatus there, I sorta got sucked into writing for the arcana. Hopefully this spanning 10 pages on my google doc makes up for it somewhat x
> 
> No Harvey in this one, but worry not, he is gone but not forgotten. Also just want to give a massive thanks to everyone who's commented; seeing people continue to care for this story despite the wait for the update is what drove me back to it xx
> 
> As usual, you can find me on @stardewtales on tumblr to be notified when an update goes up!


	13. The Last Unicorn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote this twelve pages' worth chapter in under 24 hours and barely edited we die like men
> 
> i wanna thank mod makers for making me go back into the game, passenger for writing the song the last unicorn and prompting my inspiration for how to do what I wanted to do, and all of y'all sweethearts who have left nothing but wonderful comments to fill my heart on here xx

It was the middle of the night, and the trailer was suffocatingly warm; Harvey could feel the back of his shirt growing damp as he sat down in the tiny kitchen. Penny was restless, fidgeting as she poured him a glass of cold water, distraught by her mother’s carelessness.

He’d been fast asleep, his fan set to blow a gentle breeze towards his bed through the night, when his phone had rung. Specifically his nightstand phone, the one whose number the residents of the valley knew to call only over emergencies. It had taken him a few seconds to wake up and understand where the insistent ringing came from. He’d picked up the phone in a sluggish haste.

“Yes?” he’d answered, unable to stifle a yawn.

He’d recognized panic in the voice on the other end of the line before he’d recognized who it belonged to. “Dr. Harvey, I’m so sorry to call you so late, but it’s my mother, she,” the high pitched voice of Penny had trembled, “She passed out and I can’t wake her up and it’s happened before but this time it’s different and-” 

Harvey had cut in before she had been able to go on. “I’ll be right over, Penny.”

“Thank you,” she’d sighed in quiet yet still distressed relief. She’d hung up, and he’d barely had the presence of mind to change out of his sleepwear before hurrying out.

While Pam hadn’t been in critical condition, he more than understood how her near-comatose state had frightened her daughter so bad. He’d left her to rest on her bed with a bag of frozen, Joja brand peas wrapped in a hand towel laid upon her forehead. A bad mix of heat exhaustion, sunstroke and plain old alcohol abuse had been the culprit for her catatonic state.

Penny’s hands shook as she put the glass on the table in front of him.

“Here,” she said, biting her lip with a worrying intensity. “I’m sorry we don’t have much more to offer to you right now.”

He gave her a warm, tired smile. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t have much of an appetite for anything at the moment, anyway.”

“Right,” she exhaled, shaking her head. “Sorry again to have woken you up.” While she was usually so calm, she seemed to be having a hard time keeping still.

“Please, don’t apologize. It’s a good thing you called me,” he told her. Anything to reassure her. “Why don’t you sit with me for a bit? You’ve had quite a shock too.”

She simply nodded as she pulled a chair, the rattling of its feet on the linoleum so very loud in the night’s quietude. Immediately, she started picking at the skin around her fingernails. She looked consumed with worry.

“Hey,” he said softly, getting her to look up at him. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

She sighed, setting her hands on the table in front of her. Hoping to comfort her somehow, he reached for one, squeezed it in his own gently. For the first time since he’d gotten there, she stilled. Fearing he’d crossed her boundaries, he let go.

“I’d like to see your mother again in two or three days if that’s fine,” he cleared his throat as he spoke up. The silent plea in Penny’s eyes was evident. “I’ll want to make sure she is doing okay, and I think I need to have a talk with her about her health.”

While Penny seemed relieved, she spoke in a much more defeated voice. “She won’t listen,” she sighed. “But… yes, I’d really appreciate it if you tried. She won’t listen to me,” she added, looking down. 

“People like her hardly ever do,” he nodded with empathy. He couldn’t imagine the stress her mother was putting her under. There was a brief silence, each lost to their thoughts. “Make sure to take care of yourself too, alright?”

The nod she gave him was meek at best. “Okay,” she attempted a smile.

He nodded in turn. “Well, there’s not much more I can do at this time. If you don’t mind I’ll head back home, but do feel free to call me again should this happen again, alright?” he said, getting up.

She walked with him outside of the trailer, shutting the heavy metal door with an impossible gentleness. “Thanks again, Dr. Harvey,” she told him, looking right into his eyes. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”

He was about to answer with a platitude about just doing his job when she lifted herself onto the tip of her toes. She placed the softest, most timid of kisses on his cheek. Hers were burning a heavy pink as she stepped back, matching his.

“Right,” was all he was able to mumble, having not expected the sweet gesture. “I’ll, uh, I’ll be heading back now. Call me,” he stuttered. “About your mom,” he added hastily when her mouth curved into a faint smile of amusement and a deeper blush, “If anything happens again.”

“I will,” she replied, before hesitating. “Have… have a good night, Dr. Harvey.”

And with that, she turned back to the door and went back to the thick humidity of her home. He walked away, troubled, his skin burning where her lips had met it. Truth was, he would’ve thought nothing of it had it been anyone other than Penny who had kissed his cheek in a bout of gratitude. 

Through the few steps back to the clinic, he over-thought the whole thing thoroughly. So much so, in fact, that his mind had wandered to his last prior kiss before he noticed it was headed there. In the inky darkness of the night, as an owl hooted somewhere close by, the memory of Celia’s lips on his assaulted him. It replaced every last inch of his surroundings, for a flash of a moment, with bright pink skies, cicadas, and the unmistakable scent of sweet peas blending in with that of her hair. He remembered vividly how soft and warm she’d been, like something familiar he’d never known before.

He’d felt the tension between the two of them, out there on the balcony, and yet he never had expected for her to make the first move like this, had banked on her not doing so as the root of his restraint. He hadn’t been able to help it, the way he’d given in so viscerally. He’d never kissed someone like that, had never felt the urge to. It was like Celia had brought out a whole new side of him he’d never known had been there, or perhaps forgotten. 

And then his abandon had collapsed in on itself. He’d remembered who he actually was, remembered all of the reasons he’d been making himself stay away. None of that had changed. Loneliness could get suffocating in the valley, he knew all too well, and it very well might have been what had pushed her to kiss him. He grew hot thinking about it again. If all she was after was proximity, he couldn’t afford to risk falling further for her, or he’d reach a point of no return, he was sure of it. 

They just didn’t belong together, as Jodi had inadvertently reminded him some weeks ago. She was radiant and youthful and kind, vibrant with vitality and absolutely the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, or at least according to him. Meanwhile, he was just the town’s neurotic doctor, living alone above his clinic, spending his days cooped up inside, playing out his childhood fantasies from the comfort of his living room.

Somehow, through all of his ruminations, he’d made his way back inside his apartment. A pang of hunger brought him back to the present moment. Still distraught, he made his way to the fridge, inspecting its contents. His eyes landed on the pickled parsnips jar Celia had gifted him after the Flower Dance. He winced. In a surge of frustration and resolution, he grabbed it and started eating its contents frenetically. He paused at first, cursing mentally how good the pickles were. He was committed to finishing the whole thing, so that the jar could no longer taunt him every time he opened the refrigerator door, unable to just throw it away.

When he reached the bottom, he had started just going through the motions. He dumped everything in his sink, something to clean and put away in the morning. He went to his bedroom, the floor tiles still damp from his earlier shower under his feet, and brushed his teeth. Before long, he was back in bed, sighing as he waited for sleep to come and overtake him. 

When the thought of Celia came nagging again, he willed it away, thinking of how he’d helped out at the trailer instead. How Pam hadn’t even bothered to try and resist his orders, still light-headed and weak from passing out. How Penny had fretted through the whole ordeal, so visibly distressed for a mother he wasn’t sure had ever bothered to feel the same for her. Poor Penny, pitied by the whole town and yet somehow one of its strongest people. Maybe she knew how people looked at her around here, and it was why she spent most of her time by herself or with Vincent and Jas, under the guise of looking after them. 

He still couldn’t believe she’d kissed his cheek. As his eyelids grew heavy and his heartbeat slowed, he still didn’t know what to make of it.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the summer passed in a slow, dizzying stretch of unbearable heat and hot rain. By the time fall was around the corner, Harvey was more than ready for it. 

On the last day of the season, he woke up with an instinctive trepidation. It was finally the day the Moonlight Jellies came to town. Harvey had plenty of paperwork to file and medication to order, and so before he knew it, it was time to head down to the beach. 

He whistled as he walked, an unusual spring in his step. He’d checked the weather forecast for the next day, and already it projected cooler temperatures. Summer had been boring, because people were rarely ever ill when the Sun shone so bright, but every year Fall brought the clinic back to life as people caught colds or a cough. He didn’t wish on anyone to get sick, of course, but he still had to make a living somehow.

When the corner of his eye caught Celia walking down Willow Lane with Sam, Vincent and Jodi, he halted. He hadn’t seen her since the night of the Luau, he realized. He froze in place, unsure how to proceed, when Jodi waved at him.

“Dr. Harvey! Going down to the beach?” she called at him, all smiles and beaming. Vincent almost ran into her leg from not looking at where he was going.

“Uhm… Yes, yes of course,” Harvey stuttered. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” As he spoke, his eyes kept flickering from Jodi to Celia, standing behind her close to Sam.

When Jodi moved towards him, he caught a glimpse of their hands. Specifically, that they were in each other’s. His blood ran cold as he came to the realization of something that then felt like it had always been inevitable since that night at the Flower Dance when he’d pushed Sam her way. 

“Would you like to walk with us?” Jodi asked him, unsuspecting. 

He really would rather have not. “Well, uhm, I suppose-” he started, but was interrupted.

“Actually, I have to talk to Harvey about something,” Celia chipped in, and the wavering in her voice was a painful melody to his ears. “Why don’t you guys go ahead, I’m sure we’ll catch up really quickly.”

“Oh, alright then,” Jodi nodded, slightly surprised. “Well see you later then,” she smiled at him.

Sam shot a quizzical look at Celia but didn’t say anything. “I’ll be quick,” she told him as she squeezed his hand before letting it go. He started to walk ahead with his mother. Vincent didn’t budge, observing.

“Hey bud,” Sam turned around and called out. “Come on, Lia’ll be right with us. Besides, I’m sure Jas is already waiting for you down there.”

Vincent reluctantly walked away, and Celia shot him a soft smile. Harvey was still stuck on how Sam had called her  _ Lia _ , at how much tenderness and familiarity he’d managed to imbue into the single syllable. 

“Hey,” she turned her gaze to him.

“Uhm, hi,” he replied, rubbing at his neck.

She looked stunning in her dress, abnormally so considering how simple it was. It was the color of the sky just before it turns dark; he knew, because it’s the color the sky was at that precise moment. 

“So,” she said, and then stopped. She seemed incapable of choosing what to say next.

He breathed shallowly. “You and Sam, uh?”

Her cheeks dusted with pink. “Yeah.”

He nodded. “Since when?”

“Almost two weeks now, I think.”

“Ah.”

The summer air felt thick around them. They were both looking at each other, equally helpless. 

“I’m happy for you,” he forced himself to say.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” she blurted at the same time.

It was his time to redden up to his ears. “Ah, yes. That.” 

“I really didn’t mean to upset you,” she continued, glancing down to the ground. 

He wanted to scream at how bad things had deteriorated between them. “No, I’m the one who shouldn’t have reacted like that. I’m sorry. There’s no need to apologize on your part.”

She looked up at him. He could see a question burn bright in her eyes. He wished she would ask it.

She did not. “Why don’t we put all of this stuff behind us, pretend it didn’t happen?” she said, but her tone lacked conviction.

“I’m…” he started, struggling to find words that didn’t betray just how much he hadn’t been able to forget about it and how much he didn’t think he could. “Okay. Alright.”

She smiled. “Want to head down to the beach?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

They walked silently besides each other. He couldn’t even bring himself to steal glances at her, fearing she’d catch him. 

“The pickles were delicious, by the way,” he tried to say casually.

She frowned in confusion, looked up at him. “What?”

“Uh, the jar of pickles you gave me after the Flower Dance?” he tried, about to sweat from the stress. “I ate them the other day. They were great.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m, uh, I’m glad you liked them,” she replied, tripping over every word.

They resumed their shared silence for the rest of the way. When dirt turned into sand under their feet, she smiled and waved at him before heading in Sam’s direction. He was standing by the water with the kids and Penny. She turned around when Sam did to look at Celia, but her own gaze went further and she waved at him.

Harvey waved back. His hand froze when he saw Sam take Celia’s hand and kiss her cheek. Even from a distance, his adoration was clear in his every move. He watched with envy as he lead her and his brother towards the end of the dock. He saw Penny walk along the edge of the same dock by herself, stopping in front of the large boulder that pierced the ocean, and decided to join her when he saw her glancing worriedly towards her mother up the beach.

“Good evening,” he said to her.

“Hi,” she smiled at him, cheeks visibly pink even under the starlight. 

“How have you been?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know. 

She stifled a sigh. “Well, fine I guess. I love the jellies, I’m just a bit concerned about...” she bit her lip, hesitating.

“Your mother,” he completed for her. “I’m sure she’ll be fine if you stop worrying about her for just one night,” he said gently. “Doctor’s orders,” he winked.

She broke into a smile. “Well I guess if you say so…”

Further into the water, Mayor Lewis released the lantern on its little boat. “Now we wait,” he proclaimed loudly enough for them to hear.

An eerie silence fell over the beach. It felt as if even the waves calmed, as though the frogs held their breath and the birds in the woods had vanished. It was a gorgeous night, the thin crescent moon casting very little light on the beach. A salty breeze came from the horizon, washing over them all. Every now and then, he could hear Vincent whisper a whine about the jellies not being there yet. He made a point of not looking towards where Sam and Celia stood, having caught a glimpse of how they were standing so close their silhouettes had merged into one.

It took a few minutes for the jellies to show up, but they did, as they did every year. There was a comfort to knowing no matter what happened, the moonlight jellies would always wash up the shore on the last night of the summer. When the first glow came into sight, Jas broke the silence with an audible “Woah”. He saw Penny smile at the sound beside him, which made him smile in turn as the water gradually started lighting up around them.

A low chatter rose as people reacted, but Penny and him stayed quiet. When she shivered beside him, he insisted she take his coat. As the night went on, slowly people started to leave. Marnie and Jas first, followed by George and Evelyn. Jodi and Vincent left soon after, Vincent complaining loudly he wanted to stay all night, interrupted by a yawn.

“Good night Miss Penny,” he came up to her on the way. “You look really pretty tonight,” he added with a crooked smile.

She chuckled lightly. “Thanks, Vincent,” she said, ruffling his hair. “Now go with your mom, I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”

He offered a simple wave to Harvey, and ran to his mother. 

“You’re very good with the children,” Harvey told Penny. “I can never get him to sit still during his check-ups.”

Penny laughed once more. “Thanks. Jas and him are a lively pair that’s for sure, but they’re really lovely once they get used to you.”

Before they could go on, Gus walked up to them, brow creased.

“Hey Penny,” he said, in a hushed voice. “I hate to bother ya, but I think it might be a good thing for ya mom to get home soon. I dunno what she put in that flask of hers tonight, but it’s workin’ like a charm.”

All the careless joy drained from Penny’s face, her brow setting into a furrow. “Yes, okay,” she took a deep breath. “Thanks for letting me know, Gus.”

“I tried convincing her to make the way back with me, but she only ever listens to you,” he added, apologetic.

Penny sighed. “Don’t worry about it.” She turned to Harvey, whose heart had sank bit by bit as he’d witnessed the whole exchange. “I think I’ve got to go, but I had a really nice time with you tonight. Thanks,” she smiled at him. She started taking off the coat he’d lent her, but he moved to stop her.

“Please, keep it,” he said intently. “It won’t get warmer on your way to town, I’d rather you get it back to me tomorrow.”

“That’s very nice, but-”

“I insist,” he interrupted her. “Get home safe,” he added, softer.

She started to pick at her fingernails absentmindedly. “Enjoy the rest of your night,” she said, before heading in her mother’s direction, who seemed to be cursing off a seashell she’d tripped on.

Harvey stayed in that same spot a while longer, just contemplating the glowing jellyfish in the water below. As the night drew on, the breeze grew into a wind. More people left one after the other. Notably, Sebastian threatening to push Abigail into the water as they walked past him and her taunting him to by all accounts.

By the time he was just about ready to leave, he looked around to see who remained. Leah, alone on the faraway dock where she stood, illuminated by a dying lantern. The mayor and Willy, old friends hit by nostalgia as they completed the same ritual for another year. 

And, at the end of the dock where he stood, Sam and Celia, sat on the edge. Every now and then the wind brought bits and pieces of their conversation to his ears. Her laugh rang clear, floating to him like a punishment.

When Harvey stood up, the wind had lulled, making it so he could hear everything they said above a whisper quite clearly. Having had enough, he was ready to go. Especially since they were about to leave too from what he heard, and he’d rather avoid another run-in. 

That’s when he heard it. Celia’s squeal as she tripped getting up, his laugh when he caught her from falling. 

“I’ve got you,” he heard Sam chuckle. 

“Thanks,” he heard her reply, tone unbearably soft. 

A beat of silence passed; Harvey couldn’t resist looking their way. Sam was holding both of her hands still.

“Celia?” he heard him say. The way he said her name sounded nervous. 

“Yeah?”

“I… I know it’s really early to say stuff like that, but like we’ve known each other for a while now even if we’ve only been going out for a bit, and I really want to say it, so fuck it.” Sam said without skipping a single beat. “I love you, Lia.” 

Harvey felt nauseous. He looked away as she pressed her lips to Sam’s feverishly. He didn’t want to see or hear any more. He walked back to town in a hurry, dazed and, to his surprise, heartbroken. He saw it all play out in his head. When people said “I love you” in this town, most of the time that was it; they’d found the one. He could picture it all, a wedding in the town square, Sam waiting at the altar. Soon after, little blonde babies being born, and he would be the one to monitor their health, because who else would? He knew his mind was racing way ahead, but it made him sick nonetheless.

Just like always, he was realizing much too late where his feelings really stood. He felt a future he’d forbidden himself to picture slip like sand through his fingers. One in which he was the one at the altar and she was the one in the white dress, because who else could it have been, really? Could he really afford to hope someone else would move to Stardew Valley in the coming years, someone he could fall in love with at that, when she’d been the first to arrive since Jodi and her family?

He was tumbling down a spiral of self-doubt when he heard stifled sobs echoing around. He’d made it just past the mayor’s home, and he looked around in the darkness. He spotted Penny’s curled up from by the door to the trailer, sat in the dirt with her knees brought to her chest. Immediately, all other matters fled his head.

“Penny?” he called out, walking towards her.

The sniffling stopped, and she looked up around her, wiping under her eyes swiftly. “Oh, hi Dr. Harvey.”

“Please, just call me Harvey,” he said, concerned as he grew closer. “What’s wrong?”

Penny’s eyes went wide. “Just… it’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine, really, just a bit tired.”

He bought none of it. “It’s about your mother, isn’t it?” he sighed.

She winced, glancing briefly at the window above her head. “It’s really no big deal. She just… she gets mad very easily when she’s had too much to drink…”

“Penny,” he crouched down next to her, “Has your mother ever hurt you?”

She was quick to shake her head. “No, never. It’s not like that, really. She just…” Penny’s voice wavered, “She has a mean streak, and I’m too sensitive.”

Harvey felt relieved that at least by all accounts no physical abuse had been going on under the town’s blind eye. Not that the emotional kind was any better, however. “No one can fault you for being sensitive. Especially not with all you have to go through,” he extended a comforting hand to her arm. 

She stilled, before she brought her hand up over his. She took a deep breath before looking him in the eye. “I’m sorry to hold you up in the middle of the night again.”

He chucked softly. “Nothing to be sorry about, I promise you. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

She bit her lip, looking out towards the river, glimmering with starlight. “I don’t know. I don’t want to go back in, but I don’t want,” and she caught herself, not finishing the sentence.

He nodded to encourage her. “You can tell me, Penny, it’s okay.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she admitted, not meeting his eyes. “I’d rather not be, at least.”

He understood that far too well. Truth be told, he was afraid of what hole he’d think himself into if he was left on his own for the rest of the night.

“Why don’t you come with me then?” he blurted out. She looked confused. “I’m feeling some type of way myself tonight, if I’m being honest with you,” he started to explain, “so I understand not wanting to be alone. Why don’t you come back to the clinic with me? I don’t want you catching a cold out here.”

She blinked. “Okay.”

He offered her his hand, helped her up. She followed him to the clinic, still wearing his coat from earlier, followed him up the stairs when he suggested they go up.

“Do you want anything to drink or eat?” he asked her.

“I’m fine,” she replied, looking around with thinly veiled curiosity. 

He became very aware of how his apartment looked. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

She shrugged. “I live in a trailer.”

Right. “So, uh, what do you want to do?”

She tried to say something, but a yawn didn’t let her. He huffed in amusement. 

“You can take the bed,” he offered. “I’ll take one of the couches.”

She was too exhausted to protest, though he saw it in her stare. 

“I’m just going to change in the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” he told her, grabbing a t-shirt and sweats from a drawer. “Do you need anything to wear?”

She blushed. “If you don’t mind…”

He shook his head. “Feel free to help yourself to anything in here,” he told her as he walked into the bathroom.

While he was in there, he brushed his teeth as well. The reflection in the mirror above the sink was his, and yet there was something about himself he didn’t recognize. Perhaps it was the weariness. He called out before going back into the room, making sure Penny was done changing.

“All good,” he heard faintly through the door.

She’d picked shorts and a t-shirt that looked huge on her small frame. He tried not to let heat creep up his neck when he noticed the pile of her clothes on the floor, and mostly the bright white bra on top. She was standing in front of his bookcase, examining the titles. He was surprised to notice she’d let her hair down. It was longer than he would’ve guessed, a river of cascading flames down her back. 

“See anything you like?” he asked.

She pivoted to face him. “It’s mostly medical tomes, isn’t it?”

He shifted, suddenly somehow ashamed he didn’t have a nice selection of fiction to show off to her. “I guess it is.”

He let himself fall onto the couch, sitting, as she kept browsing. Sometimes he heard her whisper a complicated title. Eventually, she pulled one and brought it to him. The floorboards creaked under her steps.

“The Secret Garden?” she asked him, holding out the book.

He chuckled good-heartedly. “Yes. I’ve had this copy since I was a child.”

She looked at it fondly, sitting down beside him. “It was my favourite.”

“Me too,” he nodded. “I had much more books back then. I was a lonely kid.”

“Me too,” she said, looking him right in the eyes, before setting the book down on the coffee table. She went back to peering up at him, a softness in her gaze. “Are you ever lonely still?” she asked him.

He swallowed. “This is Stardew Valley,” he began. “I think everyone feels lonely from time to time.”

She pondered his response. “Thanks for everything tonight.” She brought a hand up to his shoulder as she kissed his cheek once more. A familiar heat spread over his cheeks. Her gaze was even heavier after she pulled away. She didn’t remove her hand. “I don’t feel so lonely when I’m with you.”

“Oh.”

Her eyes closed slowly as she leaned towards him. He did nothing to stop her, and when her lips met his, he groaned imperceptibly. They kissed softly and slowly, steadily, for that’s how these things begin. He moved his hand to cup her cheek, and she leaned into it. It was a very nice kiss, and yet the nagging thought that she didn’t taste like she should wouldn’t leave him alone.

They pulled apart like an unspoken agreement. “Please come to the bed with me,” she whispered, short for breath. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He nodded, let her lead him to his own bed. Nothing more happened than her curling into his arms as they fell asleep. Another intrusive thought surfaced; she didn’t fit into his arms like Celia would. Lying in the dark, he understood; he was lost, and wasn’t sure he would be found.


End file.
